The Other Potter
by yohohoho
Summary: Soon after attending Hogwarts, she befriends Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, further distancing herself from her brother. As war begins to brew, Vanessa finds herself in danger of losing not only her brother, but her friends as well. Rated for language.
1. Prologue

**The Other Potter**

By: MEEE (:

**Summary: Vanessa Rose Potter doesn't exist to the half the Wizarding World. Other Potter? What other Potter? There is only Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. When Vanessa learns of her past, she is not surprised that no one knows her name. After all, she wasn't even there when Voldemort came for her family. Instead, she was at Sirius's house. After all, she is his favorite goddaughter. Though admittedly, she is his _only_ goddaughter. But since Sirius is in Azkaban, and her parents are dead, she is left with Harry and the Durselys. But that all changes when they arrived at Hogwarts. Vanessa befriends Draco Malfoy, of all people and is sorted into Slytherin. Vanessa may just be the Other Potter to everyone else, but to Draco Malfoy, she will always be the one Potter that matters. **

**A/N: YUP it's my second HP fic, my second DRACO MALFOY (hes hot) fic, buut my FOURTH total fanfic (: HEH. And I only finished one. SO DON'T EXPECT ME TO FINISH THIS ONE. Just saying. I'll try though. I'm serious, I will. JUST DON'T EXPECT IT. AND BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. Yeaah, its totally cliqued, Harry Potter's twin sister falling for—WHOOPS, can't say it. Don't wanna spoil it (: OH PFFT WHO AM I KIDDING. It's soooo obvious (: so wahtever. Oh, and DON'T expect me to update fast, I mean, I USED TO do that, but then... IT WAS STRESSSFULLL. I mean, I will TRY and update fast but I'm not perfect (duh, I left 3 fics discontinued -_-) but just a reminder: I do have a life, you know. A life that's full of studying and tests and the occasional shopping spree, but IT'S STILL A LIFE YOU UNFEELING HEARTLESS JERKS. (kidding) (sorta) Okay, in retrospect, I probably should've put the title AFTER the author note and disclaimer. Well, too late for that. Hey, does this author note look freakishly long to you? Ah shit, I'm babbling. OKAY CARRYING ON. **

**Disclaimer: No, sorry I don't own HP, but I am freakishly obsessed with it (: but then again, so is the rest of the world. **

**PS: did any of you notice that George Weasley is being overshadowed by Fred? :o I mean, COME ON, he lost an EAR. THAT'S GOTTA COUNT FOR SOMETHING. Yes, I know Fred died. No, I'm not a heartless bitch. Yes, I am babbling again. **

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* * *

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___Staring out at the rain  
with a heavy heart.  
It's the end of the world in my mind_

* * *

**The Other Potter **

**PROLOGUE**

_The Sorting_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hall erupted with applause and screams. I clapped along with them.

What? You thought that was me? Oh no, that's my brother Harry. I haven't been sorted yet. Because if you'll notice, Vanessa comes AFTER Harry. It's always been like that.

It took awhile for it to finally die down. I was counting. The cheers lasted almost a full three minutes. Finally, McGonagall called,

"Potter, Vanessa."

As I stepped towards the lone stool at the front of the Hall, feeling everyone's eyes on me, I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. _Yes_, Harry Potter has a twin sister. Is it really that hard to believe? I mean, seriously, I'm standing right in front of you. Well now, technically I'm sitting with the grimy, patched Sorting Hat over my eyes.

This thing is filthy.

_"Ah," whispered a small voice in my ear, "another Potter."_

Yes, the _other Potter, _as everyone has been calling me since I found out about my wizarding background.

_"Not bad, not bad," it mused. "A fine mind, a reasonable amount of bravery, fairly loyal... _quite _a bit of cheek." _

You bet your darn hat that I have quite a bit of cheek. Oh wait... you _are _a hat.

_"Yes, yes... you would do greatly in Gryffindor—oh, what's this? You don't wish to follow in your brother's footsteps, do you? Quite different from him, aren't you? Yes, then, better be... SLYTHERIN!" _

I removed the patched, fraying hat and saw 3 tables which I took to be the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor tables were silent and staring. The only sound was some scattered, polite clapping from the staff table and the loud jeers and whistles from the Slytherins on the far right.

The silence was broken by shocked whispers as I made my way to the Slytherin table.

"The other Potter is in Slytherin."

"She's in _Slytherin."_

"First Potter _ever _to be in Slytherin."

"How could she be in _Slytherin?"_

"_Slytherin."_

"Yes, Justin, we _know _she's in Slytherin. Stop repeating it."

I reached the Slytherin table, and stopped, unsure of where to sit.

"OY, POTTER!"

I looked up, and to my relief, it was the blond boy from the train. The one who had been picking on Harry's new friend, what's-his-face, the Weasley. Okay, probably not the best idea to go sit by him and the strangely gorilla-like humans next to him, but he was the only familiar face along the whole table. And believe me, it was a long table.

"Your names Vanessa, isn't it?" the boy said as I sat down.

"Yeah," I said, brushing my straggly jet-black hair out of my face. It was the same color as Harry's. I had the same eyes as him too. Seems like my mother's hair and my father's eyes didn't get passed on. Oh, the boy's talking to me again. What was his name again?

Oh, the boy's talking to me again. What was his name again? Oh right, Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I remembered the way he introduced himself to my brother on the train and I suppressed a giggle.

"Well, I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

My lips twitched. "Yeah. I know."

* * *

_And your voice pulls me back  
like a wakeup call _

* * *

_The Summer Before Second Year_

"I just don't know how you put up with him, Ness." Harry was telling me as I packed up my trunk. "He's jerk for real, Ness, I'm serious. Remember that time he stole Neville's Rememberall? Remember? How can you excuse him for that—Ouch!" I _accidentally_ dropped a pile of books on his foot.

"I _know_ he's a jerk, Harry." I said, after hastily muttering _very sincere _apologies. "And I don't know how I put up with him either. I just do."

The doorbell rang downstairs. "Oh, that'll be him." I quickly scanned the room for my other stuff. "Harry, can you do me a favor and bring anything I left behind? Thanks."

I swung the door open and forced my trunk through, my little tabby cat Sebastian following at my heels.

"What I don't understand is how in the world you got Uncle Vernon to let you go stay with them." Harry continued, following me down the hall. "_And _how you convinced the Malfoy's to come over to a Muggle household."

"I don't know," I told him honestly, pausing at the stairs and wondering how the hell was I supposed to get my trunk down the stairs without either ripping my arms out of their sockets or tumbling down with it and suffering a concussion. "Magic, I guess."

"How come I don't have this magic?" Harry grumbled.

"Because I'm naturally gifted. Why? Would you like to come with us?"

His eyes widened in horror. "Hell no!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I said, grinning. I faced the stairs again, my lips pursed in frustration.

"OY, POTTER, HURRY IT UP!" Draco's voice rang from downstairs.

"I NEED HELP GETTING MY TRUNK DOWN THE STEPS!" I yelled back.

"GET THE OTHER POTTER TO HELP YOU! ISN'T THAT WHAT BROTHERS ARE FOR?!"

That was one thing I liked about Draco Malfoy. To him, _I _was the Potter and _Harry _was the Other Potter.

"THERE WILL BE NO YELLING IN MY HOUSE." Uncle Vernon roared.

For a second, I considered yelling back, "WELL THAT'S A BIT IRONIC, DON'T YOU THINK" just to piss him off. But I decided I liked my face the way it was and kept my mouth shut.

"Git," Harry muttered as he helped me hoist the outrageously heavy trunk up into our arms and down the stairs.

"Morning, Draco." I smiled brightly at him.

"Morning, V." his lips twitched slightly. Then, his eyes fell on Harry, who was still struggling with my trunk. "What's wrong, Potter? The Boy Who Lived can't handle carrying his little sister's trunk?"

* * *

_I've been looking for the answer  
somewhere  
I couldn't see that it was right there_

* * *

_Fourth Year—During the Second Task_

"I have to go watch Harry's task," I said urgently, trying to pull away from him.

"Relax, V. You can see it from here. I just got to tell you something."

We were standing on the shore of the Black Lake. But the thing is, we were on the _opposite _shore. Yes, I could see the other side, where the champions were waiting, but just barely.

"Well, can't it wait?" I asked exasperatedly, once again trying to pull away.

"But it's such a beautiful day," he replied, smirking as he pulled me back towards him. I could tell he enjoyed overpowering me.

"Yeah, I know. Is that what you wanted to tell me, Draco?"

"What—I—no!" For a second he looked panicked. Then, he ran a hand through his wet hair (he woke me up at the crack of dawn for breakfast, then took me down to the Lake where he decided to drench me with water and we spent the rest of the morning in the Water War that was bound to follow after that) "I just—er—panicked—not that I'm nervous or anything!" he added nervously.

"You're right. You're not nervous." Just play along with the obviously nervous and kinda weird delinquent, V. Don't let him bother you. He's not dangerous. At least, I'm pretty sure he isn't. "So, uh, is that what you wanted to tell me? That you're not nervous?"

He threw a pissed off look at me. "Will you stop guessing what I'm trying to tell you? Because, honestly, you suck at guessing."

"Okay... was_ that _what you wanted to tell me?"

"Vanessa, seriously," he said very seriously. Then, he looked off into the distance, where the champions were anxiously waiting the return of my dear brother. "." He said in one breath.

I cocked my head to the side like a dog when they're confused. I honestly have no idea why I do that. "Eh?"

He took another deep breath and enunciated this time. A little too much. "I. Really. Like. You. Vanessa. And. I. know. You. Probably. Don't. feel. The. Same. But. I. just. Thought. You. Should. Know."

I was busy laughing at him inside my head, so it took a while for his words to sink in. When it did, my mouth fell open. "Eh?" I repeated.

He just glared at me.

"Oh," I said oh so wisely. "Yeah, okay. Um, could you give me a little time—"

He pushed me against a tree, his lips crashing down on mine, which I took for a definite _no, you may not have more time_. But I found that I didn't need more time. I found that I _liked _the way his lips felt on mine and how our bodies were curving into each other. I found that I _liked _his hand on the small of my back that was pressing me closer to him. I _loved _the way his hair felt in my hands and—wait, how the hell did that happen?

I broke away from him, gasping for breath.

"Well, that was something, wasn't it?" he breathed.

"What the hell happened?"

"Well," he said, smirking. "I believe you just fell in love with me."

"Egotistical, self-centered prat." I muttered.

"Hey, but that's what you love about me, isn't it?"

"I _do not_ love you, Draco Malfoy."

"Sure, sure," he said airily, still smirking. "It's fine, you'll come around. But for now... be my girlfriend?"

"Absolutely not—"

My thoughts cut off as abruptly as my words as he tilted my chin up and kissed me again. Gently, tenderly... How could Harry hate him? How could _anyone _think he was remotely unpleasant—

He pulled away from me, and I could see the prominent smirk on his face. "That's definitely a yes."

I glared at him. Now I could remember how everyone could think that he was unpleasant, if not downright annoying. But... yeah, it was definitely a yes.

* * *

_I'm so glad I found an angel  
someone  
who was there when all my hopes fell.  
I wanna fly looking in your eyes. _

* * *

A/N: SO? SO? SO? Whatcha guys think (: this chapters just the beginning, you know, the BASIS... the BUILDING GROUND of the story. YEAH I just had to make it super crystal clear about their relationship. Okay, so from the first scene, you see that they hit it off straightaway, right? The second scene is where Vanessa's going off to the Malfoy Manor which means that she and everyone's favorite Slytherin became really close. Close enough that Draco and his LUCIUS MALFOY father could put up with entering a muggle household to pick her up. By the way, they got back to the Manor by Side-Along Apparation. It was Vanessa's first time, so once they got out of the suffocating blackness, she promptly threw up on the Malfoy's neatly trimmed lawn. (: Well, the third scene is from the Fourth Year even though it couldve been set in any year. But I did have a plan for that. They kissed right when Harry got out of the water, so when he looked over, OOOOH OVERPROTECTIVE BROTHER ALERT! (: hehe okaaay. I'm done ! I'm not sure whether the rest of the story should take place in fifth or sixth year =\ I'll probably do sixth, unless I come up with something I could work with in Order of the Phoenix. Uggh. I can't believe this. I'm re-reading Order of the Phoenix and for the first time in FOUR YEARS I realized that it's not Order of Phoenix, it's Order of _the_ Phoenix. DAMN DAMN DAMN :O how the hell had I missed that?

PS: yeeeah, the little thingys are song lyrics. Because You Live by Jesse McCartney. WHAT? i love him. I guess it sorta fits as an undertone in this chapter. i didn't mean it to be like that, though. seriously. it just fit (: oooh right, lemme put in the last part.

* * *

_Because you live  
I live. _


	2. Two Sets of Twins

**The Other Potter**

A/N: OKAY I GOT WHAT IM GONNA DO FOR THE PLOT? SPOILERS? OH HELL NO. anyway, if you guys get confused, I'm merging the Order of THE Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, and Deathly Hallows. This should be interesting -_- oh BY THE WAY thanks to you dudes to reviewed (: you guys ROCK .

**Disclaimer: Me? JK Rowling? Aw shucks. **_We're bigger,_

_

* * *

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We're bigger,  
Love's bigger,  
I'm bigger,  
You're bigger

* * *

**The Other Potter  
****Chapter 1  
****Two Sets of Twins**

_Dear Vanessa,_

_How's your summer been so far? Mine's been lousy. Really, this house is much too quiet without you running your mouth day and night. We got a new house elf, by the way. Her name is Dotty, and she really is quite dotty. A real improvement from our last house elf, though. Thank Potter for that, will you? _

_I went out into the village yesterday and met these two muggle blokes. They were starting to get on my nerves, acting all high and mighty when they're worse than the mudbloods, so I hexed them. I suppose I shouldn't have done that. But it was an accident, really. _

_Mother wants to know when you're coming over. _

_Love, _

_Draco _

_Dear Draco,_

_My summer's been okay. I can't come over this summer, sorry. I'm at another friend's house, but I can't say I'm enjoying myself. I spend most days just cleaning out rooms. There was an enormous doxy infestation in one of the drawing rooms. I much rather be at your house. There's lots of excitement here, because all the Weasleys' are staying with me and they're fairly interesting. Fred and George are a little too interesting, though. Sometimes I just need a little peace and quiet, and that's impossible with them in the house. _

_You really shouldn't have hexed those muggles, Draco. It's against the law. And don't call muggle-borns that. It's disgusting._

_I should be going; Ginny and I share a room and she should be coming up any minute. I don't know when I'll be able to send this, though. Hedwig's off somewhere, and I'm not sure if Harry would let me borrow her to send letters to you, at any rate. _

_Sebastian has a cold. If only he could send you mail. He's a worthless little thing. _

_Love, _

_Vanessa _

_Vanessa, _

_You're not at the Weasleys' house, are you? I wouldn't be surprised if they had an enormous doxy infestation. You're just lucky that it wasn't something much worse. So how is their house? Is it terribly small and primitive? I'm joking, don't get mad. _

_You're beginning to sound like Hermione Granger, you know that, Vanessa? I know I shouldn't have hexed them, but you really shouldn't be one to talk. If you heard them talking like that, you would've jinxed their pants off. _

_You and the Weaslette share a room, huh? I'm glad to hear that you don't want to be found communicating with me. It just warms my heart to hear you say that you're ashamed to know me. But really, if you need an owl, you can always borrow mine. _

_Sebastian is pretty worthless, isn't he? Like master like cat. _

_Draco _

_You're mean, Draco, _

_I am not worthless, thank you very much. And no, I'm not at the Weasleys' house, but I have been there, and it's not too bad. Nothing compared to your enormous manor, of course, but that's only because your father likes big, flashy things. _

_What's wrong with sounding like Hermione? If I sound like Hermione, maybe I'll be able to pass the Care of Magical Creatures exam this year. Last year's was terrible, remember? I got a P. And _no_, I definitely _would not_ have jinxed some muggle's pants off because they're annoying. Only you do that, remember? I can control my temper. Honestly. _

_You know I didn't mean that I'm ashamed to know you, Draco. Stop being a melodramatic git. And yeah, me and Ginny share a room. Don't call her a Weaslette. And thanks for the offer about your owl, but he really scares me sometimes. I prefer just to use Hedwig._

_Did you get your booklist? Ron got made prefect. I wish you could've seen his face. The twins are never going to let him live this down. I got made prefect too, amazingly. I guess Dumbledore doesn't care that I called him a wrinkly old badger anyway. _

_Love, _

_Vanessa_

* * *

_So many times I'd wished you'd be the one for me_

_But I never knew it get like this _

_What'd you do to me? _

* * *

"You and Malfoy are prefects too, huh?"

Harry and I were sitting in the corner of the kitchen by ourselves. Everyone else was celebrating how Ron had become a prefect.

"That's everyone in the family!" Mrs. Weasley had exclaimed happily, much to Fred and George's indignation.

Harry didn't seem too thrilled though, and I couldn't blame him. Everyone thought he was a shoo-in to become prefect.

"Yeah, we are."

"Well, make sure he doesn't abuse his power, then, will you, Ness?"

I nodded.

"You all right, Potter?" grunted Moody.

"Yeah, fine," Harry lied.

Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue how somehow managing to stare at us both at the same time.

"Come here, I've got something that might interest you," he said.

From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisiblility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one...Thought people might like to see it."

We both took the photograph, Harry taking the left side and me taking the right. A small crowd of people, some waving at us, others lifting glasses, looked back at us.

"There's me," said Moody unnecessarily, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose intact. "And that's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side... That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom—"

Harry stiffened beside me, and I looked at the photograph more carefully. I could see Neville in Alice Longbottom's round, friendly face.

"Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than what happened to them... and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that's Lupin, obviously... Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him... shift aside there," he added, poking the picture and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those were partially obscured could move to the front.

"That's Edgar Bones... brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard... Sturgis Podmore, blimey he looks young... That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke... Sirius when he still had short hair... and... there you go, thought that would interest you!"

My breath caught in my throat. Mum and Dad were beaming up at us, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man who I recognized as Wormtail. I haven't actually seen him before, but the way Harry described him...

"Eh?" said Moody.

"Yeah," said Harry, putting on a horribly fake grin. "Er... listen, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my..."

Just then, Sirius caught Moody's attention, and Harry took the chance to slip out of the kitchen. I stared after him for a few seconds, wondering what the hell had gotten into him, then I shrugged and decided boys will be boys and squeezed myself in between Fred and George.

"Well, well, well," said Fred, "if it isn't the other ickle prefect."

"Or as I like to call her," said George, "the Girl Who Lived Because She Just Happened Not To Be Home."

"Shut it," I said, helping myself to mashed potatoes.

"Three prefects all in one house," groaned Fred, "I think I might die."

"And you know, Vanessa," said George, "it really is your fault. If you hadn't been made into Slytherin—"

Sirius took the seat across from me. "DO my ears deceive me? My little Vanessa's a Slytherin?"

"And that's not all," George said, grinning. "The Ickle Prefect went and got herself a _boyfriend_."

I felt my face heat up as Sirius's eyebrows rose and he looked at me questioningly. "Shut it, George."

"And wait till you hear who the boyfriend is, Sirius," said Fred.

"It's none other than—"

"—Draco Malfoy—"

"—the slimy git."

"He's not a slimy git!" I said angrily.

"Oh, right right, right," said Fred, comprehension dawning on his freckled face, "How could we forget—"

"-he's a _sexy sexy _slimy git," said George, making kissy faces at me.

"Go away!"

"Or what, you're going to put us in detention, Ickle Prefect?" said Fred, smirking in a I'd-like-to-see-you-try-it sort of way.

I glared at him.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in surrender, "We're going."

"Who put bubotuber pus in her knickers?" I heard George mutter as the twins scurried out of the kitchen.

"So," said Sirius, his expression half amused, half concerned, "a Malfoy, huh Vanessa?"

"He's not that bad," I said automatically.

"Even so, I'd bet everything in this house that the Malfoys are Death Eaters," he said grimly.

"But not Draco," I said confidently.

Sirius looked at me for a long time, and I didn't like the look in his eye; it was sympathetic, almost pitying.

"Do you love him?" he said finally.

I shrugged. "I guess I do, otherwise I wouldn't put up with his constant bullshit about purity of blood." I snorted. "As if any of it matters; look at Neville: he's pureblood and he can hardly stand a cauldron right side up."

"And let's not forget your parents," grinned Sirius. "Did you know James failed his Transfiguration O.W.L?"

I laughed. "So that's why I suck at Transfiguration. It's entirely my dad's fault."

"You are a lot like your father," Sirius agreed. "You're both loud, obnoxious—don't look at me like that, you know it's true—always eager to yourselves... you got your temper from you mom, though. Watching Lily blow her lid off at James was honestly the scariest thing I've ever seen, including the hundred or so dementors that were coming at me two years ago. I've never seen as woman look so much like the devil as I did that day... at least I didn't until I saw your face when Fred and George told me about your little boyfriend."

_

* * *

_

I have an excellent father,

_His strength is making me stronger.  
God smiles on my little brother,  
Cause inside and out, he's better than I am. _

* * *

**A/N: hehe I actually got this done on Monday, February 01, 2010. I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF. Although it might just be cause this is a new fic and I'm kinda obsessed with it for now. It'll wear off in a few weeks though. Hehe. OMG TOMORROW'S GROUNDHOG DAY (: I HOPE MR GROUNDHOG SEES HIS SHADOW, CAUSE THAT MEANS I CAN GO TO THE BEACH ! (: well, I guess not cause it's only spring but eh, I hope it'll get hotter soon so at least I can go swimming. The weathers been such a bitch these last few weeks. **

**Well anyway, since I'm obsessed with this fic, I have the next few chapters planned out. Wanna preview ? This is the next chapter: **

**Preview from: To the Ickle Prefect Compartment **

I woke abruptly as a loud _crack!_ filled the room and George materialized at the foot of my bed.

"Wakey wakey, Ickle Prefect," he said. "If you don't hurry up, we're going to miss the train."

With another _crack! _he Disapparated.

There was commotion all through the house. From what I heard as I dressed at top speed, Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs and into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

"—COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS—"

"FILTHY HALFBREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOSUE OF MY FATHERS—"

I was pulling on my socks when Sebastian slinked into the room, his yellow eyes watching me impatiently.

"Alright alright, sheesh," I said. "If you're in such a hurry, why don't you help me pack, you worthless lump?"

He gazed at me reproachfully for a moment, then stalked out of the room, his tail held high.

"Thanks for the help!" I called after him. "Stupid cat."

_

* * *

_

Fool me  
fool me  
oh, how you do me.

* * *

**A/N: well yesterday, I had a dream that I was killed by a cat called Sebastian... so right now, I'm seriously considering changing Sebastian's name to something sweet and innocent and would definitely NOT sneak up behind me while I'm eating and behead me. Seriously, it was a freaky dream. The songs are Bigger and Favorite Girl by Justin Bieber and the Best Day by Taylor Swift. YUP I love me some Justin Bieber (: AND BEFORE ANY OF YOU SAY ANYTHING =__= his voice is getting lower so STOP PICKING ON HIM jerks. **

**grrrr. damn it, fanfiction :o this wouldve been out like a WHOLE DAY EARLIER but noooooooo the retarded, fucked up system wouldnt lemme upload it :o so yeah, blame them (: **


	3. To the Ickle Prefects' Compartment

**The Other Potter**

**A/N: started on Monday, February 01, 2010 (: HEH. I am on a roll here, womens (: Note to self: do not start homework on the weekends. Get a freaking life so you don't end up with afternoons with nothing to do and start writing your fanfics like theres no tomorrow. Because, BELIEVE ME there **_**is**_** a tomorrow. Well, unless the hugeass earthquake that California's overdue for happens tomorrow, then my computer will most likely die and there will **_**not**_** be a tomorrow, in which case I will be terribly sorry that I robbed you of ruining your eyes by staring at the computer screen, you heartless bitches because in case you haven't heard more than a million people are supposed to die once we have this earthquake =__= SO SUCK IT UP AND DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE. Kidding (: **

**DISCLAIMER: Sheesh, I got myself all depressed thinking about that earthquake. NOTE TO SELF: DO NOT THINK ABOUT EARTHQUAKE. NOTE TO SELF: I THINK I HAVE TOO MANY NOTES TO SELVES. **

* * *

_Don't even think about what's right or wrong or wrong or right  
cause in the end it's only you and me  
and no one else is gonna be around to answer all the questions left behind  
and you and I are meant to be  
so even if the world falls down today  
you'll still have to hold you up up  
cause I will never let you down (down). _

* * *

**The Other Potter**

**The Ickle Prefects' Carriage**

I woke abruptly as a loud _crack!_ filled the room and George materialized at the foot of my bed.

"Wakey wakey, Ickle Prefect," he said. "If you don't hurry up, we're going to miss the train."

With another _crack! _he Disapparated.

There was commotion all through the house. From what I heard as I dressed at top speed, Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs and into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

"—COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS—"

"FILTHY HALFBREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOSUE OF MY FATHERS—"

I was pulling on my socks when Sebastian slinked into the room, his yellow eyes watching me impatiently.

"Alright alright, sheesh," I said. "If you're in such a hurry, why don't you help me pack, you worthless lump?"

He gazed at me reproachfully for a moment, and then stalked out of the room, his tail held high.

"Thanks for the help!" I called after him. "Stupid cat."

* * *

_Waking up to see that everything is okay,  
the first time in my life and its so great.  
Slowing down I look around and I am so amazed.  
I think about  
the little things that make life great.  
I wouldn't change a thing about it. _

* * *

Harry grinned at me as we leaned casually against the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.

"We're going back to Hogwarts, Ness. Isn't it great?"

"Maybe it is for you. But whenever I think of Hogwarts, I think of the mountains of homework we're going to get." I said, looking at the scarlet steam engine.

"Vanessa!"

I looked over to see Draco running towards me, his face flushed.

"Where've you been?" he asked breathlessly, enveloping me in a hug. "You guys are so late; I thought you were going to miss the train."

"I overslept," I explained, breathing in his scent; honey and sawdust... and soap.

He pressed his lips into my hair. "Figures," he muttered.

Harry cleared his throat loudly, and I pulled away, grinning sheepishly; I had forgotten he was there. Just to spite him, Draco laced his fingers through mine, and smirked.

Something nudged my hand that wasn't intertwined with Draco's, and I looked down to see the big black dog that was Sirius. His eyes were twinkling, and his tongue was lolling in a doggy smile, which I took as that he approved of Draco and me.

I knelt down, hugged his neck, and whispered my thanks. When I looked back up, I saw that Draco had on a strangely triumphant expression, and Harry was looking at him with intense dislike and suspicion. (A/N: uh, you might not get this part if you haven't read Order of THE (motherfucker) Phoenix recently, or unless you have a really good memory. Anyway, remember on the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy was like "Well, you better watch your step, Potter, because I'll be _dogging_ your footsteps in case you step out of line." and he and Hermione got all worried that Malfoy knew about Sirius being an Animagus because his dad's a Death Eater. I just thought I needed to explain that [: ) But before I could ponder this, Fred and George had come through the barrier, and were making _loud, obvious_ hints that Draco Malfoy was a no-good, lying prat.

The whistle sounded, causing all the students to scurry onto the train after quick hugs from their parents. Draco tugged on my arm impatiently.

I turned to say one last goodbye to Sirius, and found myself included in an enormous group hug containing all the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, and I. Fred winked at me from over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder.

"Take care, dears," she said, kissing me on the forehead. "and _behave yourselves,_" she added, mostly for Fred and George's sake.

"Don't kid yourself, Mum." George said, grinning as he stepped onto the train after Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Fred.

"Bye Mrs. Weasley," I called.

"See you at Christmas, dear," she waved, and even gave a little grimace in Draco's direction, which was either an attempt at a friendly gesture or a reaction to the disgusted look on his face.

"She kissed you," Draco whispered disgustedly. "AS hard as it is to believe, even _I'm _reluctant to kiss you now that I know _that's _been kissing you all summer."

"Be nice, Draco," I said, watching as he hoisted my trunk into the train with a loud grunt. "And she only kissed my forehead, so grow up; I bet your mum still kisses your forehead too."

"Yes, but _that_," he jerked his chin at Mrs. Weasley, "isn't your mother, V."

Impusively, I followed his gaze and caught Sirius's eye. I raised my hand in farewell.

"Bye Snuffles!"

Sirius gave a booming bark and wagged his tail furiously—

The train lurched unexpectedly. I lost my balance, and started to fall forward toward the still open door of the train... Draco wrapped an arm around my middle and snapped the door shut.

"_Honestly," _I heard him mutter.

* * *

_My friends think I'm a fool  
to think that you're the one for me.  
I guess I'm just a sucker for love.  
Cause honestly the truth is that  
you know I'm never leaving.  
Cause you're my angel sent from above. _

* * *

"You are all prefects," the lady at the front of the compartment was saying, "and as prefects, it is expected that you all maintain respectfulness and dignity in order to set a good example for the..."

Yadda yadda yadda, who really cares about this stuff? Besides, Hermione anyway; Ron was fiddling with the cuff of his shirt; Anthony Goldstein was gazing off into space; Padma Patil was mindlessly humming a vaguely familiar tune; Ernie Macmillan was staring resolutely out the window; and Hannah Abbott was nodding off in the corner. I think I'm about to go the same way.

"—therefore, it is your duty—"

I stifled an enormous yawn.

"Tired?" Draco murmured, wraping an arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah, this is the dullest speech—" I yawned again, as if to emphasize my point, "—in the history of dull speeches. How long have we been in here, anyway? Isn't almost time to get off?"

He smirked, "We've only been in here five minutes, V."

And so it went... on and on... and on... and on... for at least another three more minutes. And then it went on... and on... and on... some more.

When finally, the witch clapped her hands together loudly to signal the end of a terrifyingly long seech, I jerked out of my light, uncomfortable doze, feeling slightly sore. (A/N: Have you ever tried sleeping on the shoulder of a boy as skinny as Draco Malfoy? My best friend happens to be a STICK and trust me, it's not very comfortable.)

We walked out of the prefect compartment after the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff prefects, much to Draco's displeasure; I really didn't care, although it did kind of annoy me that Ron and Hermione didn't spare me a goodbye.

"OY! Outta my way!" Draco snarled, causing me to jump and look up at him. "I'll have you know that I am a _prefect. _Do you want detention on your first day of Hogwarts? Well? DO YOU?"

The first years that had been blocking the corridor cast us a terrified look and scurried away.

"Using your new prefect-itude to bully first years?" I said, smirking at him. "You're such a tough guy, Draco Malfoy, and sounding more and more Percy Weasley every day."

"Honestly, Vanessa, if I didn't love you so much, I would kill you for comparing me to a Weasley."

"And if you weren't afraid my big, bad brother would hex you into oblivion, right?"

"I can take Potter on any day," he said, sliding open the compartment door.

"Hello, Draco," grunted Crabbe and Goyle in unison.

"Hey Draco," said Zambini, doing that weird head nod that seemed to be guy code for 'hello'.

"Draco!" squealed Parkinson.

Draco responded with a weird head nod of his own and took the seat beside Parkinson and Zambini. None of them seemed to notice or care that I was also in the compartment.

"And Vanessa?" I said hopefully.

Zambini and Draco had delved headfirst into a very detailed, very boring account of the last Quidditch game between the Chudley Channons and the Tornadoes.

"—Cannons lost, of course. Bottom of the league this year, _again._" Zambini was saying, studiously ignoring me.

I pursed my lips and scrutinized the tiny gap between Crabbe's Dudley-sized bottom and the compartment wall. Turning my head to the side, I tried to figure out whether I could squeeze myself in there. I decided that there was no way I could sit anywhere without being squashed like a pancake and compromised by leaning against the wall and crossing my arms in the ultimate I-don't-care pose. But I really, really did care. I was sore as hell from trying to sleep on Draco's bony shoulder and my ego was bruised because none of them had registered my existence. Well _whatever_, I don't care. Hence the _I-don't-care _pose.

I was halfway through gathering up my courage to leave the room and find Harry and the others, when I heard a faint scratching sound outside the door. Cautiously, I slid open the compartment door, and Sebastian pranced in, with a small _meow_ of indignation and a look that very clearly said, "How could you have forgotten me like that?"

"Well stop pitying yourself and start pitying _me, _Sebastian," I said out loud, picking him up and kissing his nose.

"You talk to your _cat_? How pathetic can you get?"

I looked up from Sebastian's cute furry face to the equally furry, but nowhere near as cute face of Pansy Parkinson. She was sneering.

Unwilling to start a catfight, I just stuck my tongue out at her and plopped onto the floor at Crabbe's abnormally large feet, still cuddling Sebastian.

"Enough, Pansy," I heard Zambini say quietly, though I might've heard wrong because Sebastian decided to sneeze in my ear at that particular moment, drenching it in cat spit.

Do cats have spit?

She plowed on, "But her whole family is messed up. Everyone knows it's true. Her parents were _blown up_," _Ignore her, _"her brother's an attention-seeking nutcase, and her grandparents were _muggles_," I tightened my grip on Sebastian unconsciously, "It's no surprise that _she'd_ turn out like that, anyway."

I must've squeeze Sebastian too hard, or something, because with a loud hiss, he sprang out of my arms and landed on Parkinson's head, hackles raised. She screamed.

"GET THIS MUTT OFF OF ME!"

I jumped up and snatched Sebastian off her head, pulling out a few strands of hair (Sebastian had his claws extended).

"Mutts are dogs, Parkinson," I said with dignity, "and Sebastian happens to be pure-bred."

Actually, I wasn't sure about that. I just went into the shop and grabbed him.

"Which is more than you can say about your mudblood mother."

I blew a raspberry at her and stalked out of the compartment.

"That was real mature, Vanessa," I muttered to myself.

Sebastian meowed, as if agreeing with me.

I leaned against the wall of the corridor, and lifted Sebastian up so we were face-to-furry-face.

"You're a good boy, aren't you Sebastian?" I cooed, kissing his nose.

He sneezed in my face.

I sighed, wiped my face, and proceeded down the corridor, looking for Harry.

"Goddamned Slytherins," I was muttering, "Wish they could all disappear off the face of the earth."

I thought of Draco, who had done nothing besides look at Parkinson with a disdainful expression ; and Zambini, who might or might not have stuck up for me.

"Stupid, confusing Slytherin boys."

I peeked into the next compartment and exhaled in relief. Harry was in here. I slid open the door.

"Hi!" I said brightly.

"Hey Ness," said Harry.

"Hello," said Ron and Hermione rather unenthusiastically.

What's gotten into them? They were perfectly fine with me eight hours ago but now they're giving me the _treatment_? Well, that's fine with me. I don't need two stupid Gryffindor prefects to keep me happy, anyway.

The round-faced boy next to Harry (I was pretty sure I heard Draco making fun of him before. Wasn't his name something about a donkey? Donkey... Ass... Butt... Bottom... Oh, LONGBOTTOM! Hehe. He has a long bottom.) (A/N: sorry, I got carried away there. Don't you love how my brain works? Anyway,) the round-faced boy next to Harry was gaping at me.

"Hello Neville," I said pointedly.

He snapped his mouth shut, looking embarrassed.

"Hello," he muttered.

Everyone continued to satre as I took the seat next to Ginny.

"Is there something on my face?" I asked when the silence became awkward.

"Aren't you that Slytherin girl who's dating Draco Malfoy?" Neville blurted, then flushed and looked back at his trainers.

"Yup," I said unconcernedly. "And I'm also _that _boy's sister." I nodded at Harry.

"I didn't know that," Neville muttered.

"I did," a girl with straggly dirty blond hair spoke up. "Their eyes are exactly alike. I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way. My father runs the Quibbler."

"Er, that's nice," I said, exchanging a glance with Harry. I could see my confusion reflected in his eyes. Our eyes looked nothing alike. Okay, maybe the color and shape are similar, and mybae—

All right, _fine. _They're exactly alike.

Harry broke eye contact with me suddenly, looking at a spot just over my left shoulder. He scowled.

"What?" he said aggressively.

I turned to see what everyone was gawking at, and felt my face heat up. Draco was standing in the doorway, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," he said smoothly. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

Must. Resist. Urge. To. Roll. Eyes... Mission Failure. Draco is such a prat.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out of here and leave us alone."

Draco smirked and met my eyes. "Vanessa doesn't want me to leave, do you, V?"

I couldn't look at him, not for some lovey-dovey reason, but because he was being such a jerk. So instead, I focused on Goyle's three chin and felt a bubble of laughter threaten to explode. Okay, bad idea. Look at Draco's hair, yeah. Draco's... pretty... shiny... hair. DAMNIT.

While I was busy fuming, Draco had been waiting for an answer. He must have misinterpreted my silence, because he said, "Blaise and I've had a row with Pansy. Don't listen to her, V, she's just jealous."

"Did you rip her eyeballs out of their sockets?" I asked. And for the record, I wasn't talking to him, I was talking to his nose, which was the place I had decided to look at instead of his eyes.

"Er, no—"

"Then you're not forgiven."

"But that's really gross-"

"—nyeh—"

"—Vanessa—"

"—nyeh---"

There was a pause. Then, "Did you say 'nyeh'?"

"Nyeh—I mean, no."

I could feel every eye on me now, which really wasn't helping with the whole stress thing. I mean, I said _nyeh_. I am in serious need of a stress ball.

"Vanessa, can I talk to you? Alone, please?"

I jerked back in my seat, stunned. He said _please_. Okay, this was serious.

Correctly reading my expression, Draco scowled.

"I just don't want all these..." he seemed to struggle for a word, "_people_."

I looked around automatically. And immediately, the silence was broken by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny's protests.

"Don't do it, Ness."

"—say no—"

"-I don't trust him---"

"—little git—"

"—don't go—"

Confused, I looked back at Draco. But this time, I forgot to avoid his eyes and was mesmerized by the unique color of them. Harry describes them as_ cold_; I describe them as _indescribable._ I couldn't look away, and felt my lips moving to form something of an assent and felt my legs move towards the open compartment door.

I don't know why everyone says being in love is _so_ wonderful. If you ask me, it's a pain in the donkey.

Out in the empty corridor, away from staring eyes, I crossed my arms and tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for Draco to say something.

"Can you not do that?" he snapped. "It's annoying."

My tapping grew more insistent.

"Really," he said, taking my shoulders, "Stop."

I leaned away from him, from his eyes, from his face, and closed my eyes. Like I said, this whole thing is just a pain.

"You know, it's really hard to talk to you when your eyes are closed."

"Why?"

"It's kind of distracting."

I opened my eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you look so inno—oh, it's gone."

I glared. "Will you get on with it?"

"Okay, okay," he blew out a long stream of air. I smelled Fizzing Whizbees on his breath and remembered that Zambini must have bought some. Note to Self: Yell at Zambini for not sharing.

"I love you," he said suddenly.

I froze. I really wasn't good at this mushy stuff. Our relationship was all backwards. Wasn't the girl supposed to be the one with the whole _oooh, I love you so much _crap, and the guys were supposed to be bad at this stuff? THIS IS SO UNFAIR. I mean, I really do love him, but I wasn't planning to say that _out loud_. I mean, the act of SAYING IT OUTLOUD is just... oh my god, he's expecting me to say something back. What the hell am I supposed to say?

"I—er—I—"

His face fell.

"NONONO," I said quickly. "I LOVE YOU TOO!"

His expression was disbelieving. "No, really, it's okay—"

"No, I do! Really!" I said, all bubbly and gross and...

Oh gosh, I sound like one of _those_ girls.

"It's okay, V. Really. I knew you probably didn't feel the same way. Especially after what happened with Pansy back there... But I really did try and put her right. Really, I did."

"Yeah, I forgive you," I blew out a long stream of air, like he had. "I really wish you could've ripped out her eye sockets though..."

Oh, gosh was I really going to say this?

"I really love you, Draco Malfoy," I blurted. "I would've said it before now, but I didn't think _you_ felt the same way because I was a Potter, and all, and not Pureblood and—"

I cut off. It's bad enough being a mushy gushy girlfriend and pouring my heart out to him, but no, now I'm _blabbing _again. This is a nightmare.

But instead of laughing and telling me what a goof I was for saying stuff like that, a grin spread across his pale features.

"Really? You thought I didn't love you because you're related to _Potter_? Okay, I'll admit that it was something that really ticked me off when I realized—er—what I felt for you, but it's not gonna change it."

He laughed.

I glared at him. He was laughing. HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO LAUGH.

But before I could yell at him for laughing at me, _which he wasn't supposed to do_, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

Oh God, I missed this.

"Two months was definitely too long," he whispered against my lips. "Next summer, you're coming over whether you like it or not."

* * *

**A/N: OMG, that was a long chapter (: WHO'S PROUD OF ME? YES? YES/ oh shit, I ended it cheesily. D= eh, it's too late now. And I'VE HAD A LONG DAY, AND I AM DEFINITELY NOT GOING BACK THERE JUST TO CHANGE IT :O Um, the songs are Untouched—the Veronicas; Innocence—Avril Lavigne; Love Me—Justin Bieber (JB [= ) I didn't feel like finding a song for the last one cause IN CASE YOU ALL WERE WONDERING it's actually really hard and stressful ): okay, maybe not stressful, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. **

**Anyway, the way Vanessa says love is just a pain is SO TOTALLY TRUE. I'm serious; just ask anyone who's been in a bad relationship (Ashley), or a bad breakup (Ashley), or in a complicated relationship (Ashley), or is in a relationship and thinks its complicated because it takes up so much time and you wanna end it but NOOO theres a little thing called love and its hard to hurt the one you love (ME) So you guys wanna know who Ashley is? You'll find out in the next chapter [= **


	4. Ashley and Umbridge

**A/N: I can feel the OOH IT'S A NEW FIC phase ending, so I don't know how fast I'm gonna update now. It's probably not less than every week or so. Cause like I said, I got EVERYTHING figured out. But then again, I had everything figured out for my other fics too, I just didn't wanna write em (: Anyway, this chapter introduces a new OC because I figured that Vanessa needs a girl friend... not that she's gay. I mean, like a friend who's a girl, you know? Aye, whatever. **

**Disclaimer: RIGHT, well practically NOTHING belongs to me because I have absolutely no imagination whatsoever. The plot is pretty damn close to the plot in Order of the Phoenix, except with little twists, and stuff. But like I said, I have a new OC but UNFORTUNATELY she doesn't belong to me either =__= yeah, I just got a call from my "best friend" reminding me to tell you guys that "Ashley Turner absolutely DOES NOT belong to you; Ashley Turner belongs to your best friend Ashley, who came up with the personality, look, and the oh-so-clever name." You can tell she really loves me. =__= **

Chapter 3—Ashley and Umbridge

The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.

I slid into the seat beside Draco, my hand still clasped firmly in his, and directed my attention to the other end of the Hall at the Gryffindor table. Harry was standing up in his seat, looking around frantically. When his eyes met mine, relief washed over his features, then confusion as his eyes darted over to Draco, who was deep in conversation with Zambini, and his face settled into a scowl.

Stupid overprotective brothers.

"Hey V, check it out," said Draco, nodding towards the staff table.

I followed his gaze, and scanned the table.

"What? I don't see anything."

"Yeah, exactly. You don't see anything. No giant, lumbering oaf around is there, V?"

"No, I don't," I admitted, and then smirked. "But I _do_ see a squat toad-like woman with a ridiculous bow and a fluffy pink cardigan."

Zambini snickered, but Draco frowned.

"I've seen Father talking to her," he said slowly. "She must work for the Minister."

"Fudge? Then, what's she doing here?"

"Making things better, I hope," said Zambini.

"Like getting rid of all the mudblood filth." Draco agreed.

I opened my mouth to tell him off, when the entrance hall opened again, and a long line of scared looking first years filed in, led my Professor McGonagall. All of them were either white, or trembling, or looking extremely apprehensive; all except a strangely tall girl near the back, who was talking animatedly to no one in particular. She wasn't exactly tall, but looked about my height; but surrounded by the first years, she seemed to tower over them.

McGonagall set the patched and fraying Sorting Hat on the stool, and the buzz of conversation faded away. Everyone was staring with rapt attention at the old hat, then suddenly, the hat's brim opened wide and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

_In times of old when I was new  
and Hogwarts barely started  
The founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted:  
United by a common goal,  
They had the same selfsame yearning,  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach!"  
The four good friends decided  
and never did they dream that they  
Might someday be divided  
for were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?  
SO how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there and so can tell  
the whole sad, sorry tale.  
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
whose ancestry is purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those who's  
Intelligence is surest."  
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
with brave deeds to their name,"  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,  
and treat them just the same."  
These differences caused a little strife  
When first they came to light,  
For each of the four founders had  
A House in which they might  
Take only those they wanted, so,  
For instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning, just like him,  
And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffindor.  
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
and taught them all she knew,  
Thus the Houses and their founders  
Retained friendships firm and true.  
So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
For several happy years,  
But then discord crept among us  
Feeding on our faults and fears  
The Houses that, like pillars four,  
Had once held up our school,  
Now turned upon each other, and  
Divided, sought to rule.  
And for a while it seemed the school  
Must meet an early end,  
What with dueling and with fighting  
And the clash of friend on friend  
And at last there came a morning  
When old Slytherin departed  
And though the fighting then died out  
He left us quite downhearted.  
And never since the founders four  
were whittled down to three  
Have the Houses been united  
As they once were meant to be  
And now the Sorting Hat is here  
And you all know the score:  
I sort you into Houses  
Because that is what I'm for  
But this year I'll go further,  
Listen closely to my song:  
Though condemned I am to split you  
Still I worry that it's wrong  
Though I must fulfill my duty  
And must quarter every year  
Still I wonder whether sorting  
May not bring the end I fear  
Oh, I know the perils, read the signs  
The warning history shows,  
For our Hogwarts is in danger  
From external, deadly foes  
And we must unite inside her  
Or we'll crumble from within.  
I have told you, I have warned you...  
Let the Sorting now begin. _

The Sorting Hat grew silent, and I started to applaud. Only when I heard a snicker did I realize that Draco, along with Crabbe and Goyle, hadn't been listening to the song at all. They were whispering and muttering and shooting smirks over at the Gryffindor table. I didn't have to be psychic to know what they were talking about. As a flash of annoyance went through me, I resisted the urge to reach over and bang their heads together.

They weren't the only ones who were whispering, although they, along with everyone else quieted when they saw McGonagall's expression. When silence fell in the Hall, she cleared her throat and called out,

"Abercrombie, Euan."

A frightened looking boy stumbled over and put the hat on his head. The hand considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"That's a shame," Blaise said, shaking his head sadly as the boy staggered over to the Gryffindor table.

"Ah, it was no loss, Blaise. We don't need runts like that in Slytherin." Draco said smoothly, casting a disgusted look in the direction of the Gryffindor.

"Yeah, because we really need more big, scary monsters like Crabbe and Goyle." I said sarcastically.

"And let's not forget Montague," said Blaise. "He's like a troll."

"Better trolls than runts," Draco said darkly.

"Speaking of trolls," Blaise nodded towards the front of the Hall, where a pudgy boy was approaching the stool.

"No, he's more of a pig," I said, squinting and turning my head to the side. "See, if you do this, he looks like my cousin Dudley, only not blond."

"Any bets on which House he's gonna be in?"

"Slytherin," Draco and I said immediately, just as the Sorting Hat called out "SLYTHERIN!"

"That'll be three Galleons, Blaise," Draco said, extending his hand.

"Pay up," I added cheerfully.

Scowling darkly, Blaise dug into his pockets and pulled out three gold coins, pressing two into Draco's and one into my outstretched hand.

"Very funny," said Draco, smirking. "Three Galleons _each_, Blaise."

My pockets were eleven Galleons, seventeen Sickles, and twenty one Knuts heavier due to Blaise's poor guessing skills by the time the abnormally tall girl was called.

"Turner, Ashley!"

"So, what do you guys think?"

"Ravenclaw," Blaise said promptly. "She just has the air of a Ravenclaw, you know?"

"Well," I said, studying her as the Hat was put onto her head, "Gryffindor, maybe?"

"Well, I say Slytherin," said Draco confidently.

"Oh please, there's no way she would be a—"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Blaise swore, and dug out six Galleons, three Sickles, and seven Knuts.

"You too, V," said Draco, smirking. "Come on, don't cheat."

"_Six Galleons?_ But that's half of my earnings," I whined. "Come on, I thought you love me."

Blaise made a choking sound that sounded oddly like someone trying unsuccessfully to hold back laughter. Draco shot him a dirty look, before saying, "But that doesn't mean you get special treatment, V. You lost. Fork it over."

Reluctantly, I pulled my winning out of my pockets and counted out six Galleons, three Sickles, and seven Knuts.

"Making bets on the new girl? Wow, you guys really know how to make someone feel welcome, don't you?"

I whirled around and saw the girl that lost me half my winnings. Her dark hair was the mahogany shade between red and brown and her grey blue eyes were untroubled, relaxed, and utterly unconcerned.

And that really bothered me.

"You!" I hissed. "Do you realize that you've lost me twenty minutes of hard earned Galleons? Why in the world did you have to be in Slytherin? What's wrong with Gryffindor? I lost six Galleons, three Sickles, and seven Knuts to _him_," I jabbed my thumb in the direction of Draco's smirking face, "because you didn't get put into Gryffindor. And that really, really sucks."

She shrugged. "And I honestly don't care about that. But look, if it means so much to you, the Sorting Hat _did_ consider putting me in Gryffindor, but—"

My expression cleared instantly. "Hear that, Draco? The Sorting Hat _considered _Gryffindor, so can I have maybe half of that back?"

He snorted. "Not a chance, V. The Sorting Hat has to consider _all_ the Houses—"

"Which means that it also considered Ravenclaw," Blaise interrupted. "Give me my half."

"And mine!"

"Do I get a share?" Ashley asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not, you bunch of cheaters."

"But I thought you loved me!" I whined again.

Draco shot me an exasperated look. "And I am seriously regretting ever saying that."

He then gave Blaise, who looked as if he were about to explode from holding in silent laughter, the dirtiest look he could muster.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Blaise shook his head as the Hall filled with laughter. "Dumbledore's mad."

"Father's been saying it for years," Draco agreed, making a dace as Crabbe and Goyle made identical roars of delight and lunged at the golden plates, which were magically filling with food.

"I say Dumbledore's a genius," I said coldly.

Draco looked up from his steak-and-kidney pie, startled by my tone.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that."

"Yeah, me too."

"So you forgive me?"

"Of course."

"As much as I love all this sappy romance shit," said Ashley, "are you guys going to scoot over, or am I just expected to stand here and watch you eat?"

Blaise shifted over to the right, and said, "Turner's right, Draco, you guys are so sickly sweet I get cavities just watching you."

"Ohmygosh," said Ashley, "You two aren't those lovey-dovey-mushy-gushy kind of couples, are you?"

"Of course not," I said indignantly, offended by her assumption

"Oh please," said Blaise, rolling his eyes, "You walk her to class, you kiss her goodnight, you hold her hand, you spend the holidays together, you hardly ever get into fights, like just now, you get over it in about two seconds."

"Oh my gosh, they_ are _the lovey-dovey-mushy-gushy- kind of couples!"

"No, we're not," said Draco, his cheeks turning pink.

"See, you guys agree on everything."

"I—what---but—" I spluttered, rendered incoherent by the unfairness of it all. "But he's a selfish prat who needs to deflate his head!"

"What! No I'm not. Well, she's a cheeky little girl who needs to learn when to keep her mouth shut"

"Hey! I am not!"

I turned away from him and attacked my chicken ferociously. The rest of the meal passed in silence.

When the rest of the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. I was feeling pleasantly drowsy now, and all I was thinking of was the nice warm bed waiting somewhere above...

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I bet a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term- notices," said Dumbledore. "I am pleased to announced that this year, we have a fifth year transfer student from Durmstrang; Ashley Turner, who has just been Sorted into Slytherin."

"You transferred from Durmstrang?" Draco asked incredulously.

"You're in _our_ year?" Blaise said, gaping.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Ashley said nonchalantly, still gazing at Dumbledore with the utmost attentiveness.

I'm sensing another Hermione.

"... Two changed in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—"

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "_Hem, Hem," _and it become clear that she had got to her and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, and then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor Snape's lip was curling. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome." She gave another _"Hem, hem" _and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Ashley made a small noise of disbelief, and Blaise had one eyebrow lifted. I couldn't blame them; I didn't like being addressed as though I were five years old either.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Draco let out a snort of laughter.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("Hem, hem"), but when she continued, she sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lost them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Here, she paused and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Draco squeezed my hand in an I-told-you-she-worked-for-Fudge sort of way.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation."

"Going to give Binns a run for his money, she is." I heard Blaise mutter to Ashley, who was watching Umbridge intently.

My attention was ebbing. The quiet that had filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Over at the Gryffindor table, Hermione was the only who seemed to be paying attention, and (I smirked) Harry was gazing dreamily at the Ravenclaw table where Cho Chang and her friends were chatting animatedly. Draco was absentmindedly tracing patterns onto the back of my hand.

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. Blaise jerked upright at the sound of the applause; he seemed to have fallen into a deep stupor. Dumbledore stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now—as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"Illuminating was definitely the right word for it," Ashley muttered beside me.

"Don't tell me you enjoyed it," I said, surprised. "That was the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I live with an uncle that sells drills."

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," Ashley sighed. "This is just my luck. The year I finally get to come to Hogwarts and there's a bitch from the Ministry who's trying to interfere."

"I told you so," Draco said smugly, nudging me in the ribs.

"You did not," I argued. "You just told me she worked for Fudge."

"But it was _implied_."

"Was not—"

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Many of the first years were looking around, confused.

Draco sighed. "Right, we've got to show the first years where to go."

"Oh yeah," I said excitedly, jumping up. I turned to where most of them had converged. "Hey, first years!" They paid me no attention. "Hey! HEY!"

"OY!" Ashley shouted, causing many of them to jump and glare reproachfully at us.

"Thanks," I said. "Alrighty, you guys follow us, okay?"

"See you two later," Blaise muttered to Draco, who nodded at him.

As Draco and I led the group of muttering first years out of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall, one of the boys disentangled themselves from the group and headed over to us.

"Is it true?" he asked, sneering. "You're Harry Potter's sister, aren't you?"

We started descending the stairs that led to the dungeons.

"Um—"

"What's it to you?" Draco snarled. "Why's it matter who her family is?"

The boy glared at me. "Crazy bitch," I heard him mutter as he rejoined the group.

Draco swiveled around, reached into his robes, and pulled out his wand.

"Draco!" I hissed, yanking on his arm to keep him from cursing the first year. "Not on the stairs! Are you _trying _to get one of them to trip, fall down four flights of stairs, and knock themselves unconscious?"

"That's a good idea," he said, trying to turn around again.

"You. Are. Such. A. _Guy._" I whispered, tugging on his arm with every word. He finally turned to me, looking sulky, as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

Draco muttered to himself about what an idiotic wart Harry was the rest of the way. I sighed and twisted my fingers through his. _Boys_. What can you do?

**A/N: I could've had this up earlier... but then Ashley (you know, ASHLEY -_-) came over and had this REALLY REALLY lame idea for valentines' day. ... So I spent the last two afternoons with her making a shirt that says I LOVE JIMMY (: aye . but you guys don't need to know that. What you DO need to know is this : HAPPY VALENTINES' DAY (: and when your first love breaks up with you, never... EVER talk to him again because you are WAAAAY too good for him anyway. PS : don't listen to his bullshit. PPS: LOLOL YOU SUCKER THEY BROKE UP WITH YOU RIGHT BEFORE VALENTINES DAY. **

**Anyway, I liked this chapter, but you guys are probably wondering why I spent all that time copying down the Sorting Hat's song. Buuuuut, THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Okay, fine, it's cause I love this song best out of all of em (: **

**Anyway, this is for my Ashley and all you other Ashley's out there or anyone else who's had a bad breakup and needs to know someone loves em: **

_You say you're sorry,  
that face of an angel comes out  
just when you need it to.  
_

_...cause I honestly believed in you.  
stupid girl, stupid girl,  
I should've known, I should've known_

_...maybe I was naïve  
got lost in your eyes  
and never really had a chance  
my mistake I didn't know to be in love  
you had to fight to have the upper hand._

had so many dreams about you and me  
happy endings...

...and now you are on your knees  
begging for forgiveness  
begging for me,  
just like I always wanted  
but I'm so sorry

...i'm gonna find someone some day  
who might actually treat me well  
this is a big world  
that was a small town.  
you're in my rear view mirror disappearing now.  
and now its too late for you and your white horse  
to catch me now. 

**Like I said: just forgive and forget. Except.... maybe not so much on the forgiving part... or the forgetting part... okay, you know what? Screw it. You guys have a ton of friends who just want you to get the hell over it and get on with your life. And it's not cause they're heartless, it's cause they can see things that **_**you**_** can't see because you're too damn stupid to look past all the crap and lies. If people tell you he still wants you, don't ever believe them. Hear it from **_**him**_**. **_**Don't**_** let him play with you. I'm fucken serious. **

**Sorry 'bout the rant =\ Ash came over... AND SHE REALLY REALLY NEEDS TO GET OVER HIM. AND SO DO THE REST OF YOU WHO CANT FUCKEN LET GO. **


	5. Did I Mention I Hate Umbridge?

A/N: OH MY GOSSSSSSSSSH, it's been so long since i've updated. MORE THAN A WEEK :OO im terribly terribly sorry. i could've gotten it up earlier but yesterday, my brother was being a bitch. i think that i give you guys excsues every week... BUT ITS TRUUUUUUUUUUE. D:

**Disclaimer: still don't owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwn (: WELL, i own at other stuff, but not harry potter... ): **

Chapter 5—Did I Mention I Hate Umbridge?

"Yo Draco, V, what took you two so long?" Blaise called from one of the cushy armchairs as we clambered in after the runty first years.

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco groaned, collapsing onto the armchair adjacent from Blaise.

I settled myself into a loveseat and pulled my knees up against my chest, staring intot he flickering fireplace.

"What happened?" Blaise was trying to keep his voice low, but let's just say it isn't working.

Draco muttered something I couldn't make out, but he sounded pissed.

"And you just let them? Draco, you didn't do anything about it?"

I sighed, having a pretty good idea what they were talking about now.

Draco must have realized this too, because he didn't bother to keep his voice down this time.

"I tried, but _she_ wouldn't let me."

"Ah... speaking of stubbornly obnoxious girls, Ashley's with Snape getting her dorm assignments."

"Right. And you thought I'd care because..."

I looked up in time to see Blaise flush and stutter, "Er—I just thought you should know."

I smirked.

"Got a thing for the Durmstrang brat, Zambini?" Draco said smugly.

"So? You like Potter's twin sister," he shot back.

I said, "Haven't your parents ever taught you that it's rude to talk about someone when they're sitting right in front of you?"

"I don't know, V," said a voice from behind me. I jumped. "I find the fact they would bicker over me at all immensely flattering."

"Not really. Draco and Blaise bicker like old women."

"Well—well—er—you and Draco bicker like _dead _old women... yeah—ha ha," said Blaise.

I rolled my eyes. Draco raised an eyebrow.

Ashley plopped into the seat beside me and groaned. "Hogwarts food is _way_ too heavy. I need to find a way to burn off those calories."

"You know," said Blaise, a bad-boy grin curving his lips upward, "I have some ways we could burn calories."

She blinked. "Okay, eeeew. Not in this lifetime, Bicker One."

"What's a Bicker One?" I asked, confused.

"Better luck next time, Blaise." Draco smirked.

"Shut it, Bicker Two." Ashley shot at Draco.

"Ohhh, you mean like Thing One and Thing Two in the Cat in the Hat, or one of the other things by Dr. Seuss?"

They all stared at me.

"What's a Thing One and Thing Two?"

"Cats live in hats?"

"What's a Dr. Seuss? A brand of toothpaste?"

"Never mind," I said quickly.

They continued to stare.

"Okay," I said, when the silence was getting uncomfortable. "Well, I'm pooped, so I'm gonna go hit the sack. See you all in the morning."

I got up from the loveseat, and started to walk towards the stairs.

"What sack?" I heard Draco ask. "Cause I feel really bad for that sack."

"It's an expression," Ashley snapped.

"She said pooped," Blaise snickered. "Who actually says pooped?"

Boys are so immature.

I had just reached the stairs when Draco called from the couch, "SLEEP TIGHT, V!" for the whole common room to hear.

Don't get me wrong, that's sweet and all, but I just wish everyone would stop _staring_. Blushing, I ducked my head and took about two steps when Blaise came running up to me. I turned quick enough to see a flash of his black robes disappearing into the other staircase leading down into the boys' dormitories. Suddenly, I remembered something.

"Hey," I called, "Hey, Blaise!"

He turned to look at me, his eyes questioning.

"Thanks for—you know—on the train and stuff—I mean, if you really did—if you didn't just forget it. Um, well, cause Sebastian sneezed in my ear."

He grinned. "You know I have no clue what you just said, right?"

"Yeah... Well, whatever then." I turned back, about to descend the steps.

He said, "You're welcome, though, for whatever it is that you wanted to thank me for. But it's fine, you're my best friend's best girl so it's only natural that I'm expected to do stuff for you. If I didn't, I'm pretty sure Draco would lecture me about manners." He snorted, "Filthy hypocrite. 'Night, V."

I reached the door of my dorm and paused there. I guess I should tell you who my dormmates are before I go in, so you don't get all surprised and/or throw up. I share a dorm with Millicent Bullstrode, Pansy Parkinson, and Tracey Conway, who all happen to be very unpleasant and well, not very nice. I try to put up with them. Try is the key word in that statement.

I took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. Sebastian immediately jumped into my arms, hissing. I couldn't blame him. Anyone would hiss if they were stuck in a room with my roommates for too long.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Parkinson said, chortling at her oh-so-clever-and-witty statement.

She and Bullstrode were seated on their four-poster beds, wearing identical smirks and very unflattering pink pajamas.

I dumped Sebastian onto my pillow and curled up on my bed. "Where's Conway?"

"Haven't you heard?" said Bullstrode in that low voice that so resembled Fred and George's in their gorilla impressions.

"Um, if I had I wouldn't be asking. After all, I avoid any kind of contact with you guys." I shrugged, finding it very difficult to feel threatened by someone wearing bunny slippers. Even if they were the size of Mount Everest.

The door opened then, distracting me from the horror of Bullstrode and Parkinson's identical smirks.

"Ash? What are you doing here?"

The girl framed in the doorway was Ashley, and she was gaping at Bullstrode and Parkinson like she's never seen anything as disgusting and horrific. Then she saw me, blinked, and grinned.

"Oh hey, V. You didn't tell me you were in Dorm 17."

"That's cause you never asked," I reminded her.

"Oh right."

She plopped into Tracey Conway's bed and bounced on it a couple times. "Ooooh, soft."

Bullstrode and Parkinson were now glaring at Ashley with identical scowls. I wonder why everything they do is identical. Maybe they were twins and separated at birth. That would explain the freakish largeness that seems to run in the family.

"Who're you?" demanded Bullstrode.

"What's it to you, Gorillla Butt?"

I grinned as I pulled the curtains shut. I had a feeling Ashley and I were going to get along just fine.

* * *

I woke bright and early, the pale blue light treaking through the window told me it was just past dawn. Birds were singing outside; sweet bird songs that intertwined with one another and flowed seamlessly. A perfect start to the first day. I took it as a good omen.

Sighing happily, I sat up and stretched... and froze. Ashley was at the foot of my bed, digging through my trunk. When she saw I was up, she grinned and put her finger to her lips in a shh-ing gesture.

A moment later, she emerged, pinching her nose and looking both gleeful and disgusted. Pinched between her fingers and held away from her face at an arm's length was a slice of pizza. A slice of pizza that was green and furry with a distinct moldiness to it.

I felt myself start to blush, remembering the time at Privet Drive when the Dursleys were out and I had gone downstairs to knick two slice a pizza. Harry had started to rage at nothing in particular and I had chucked the slice that was supposed to be for him at his head and it bounced off and must have landed in...

"Gross," Ashley mouthed.

That was the summer before fourth year. Eeew...

She tiptoed over to Pansy Parkinson's bed, where she was snoring loudly with her mouth wide open. Dread mixed with a sick sort of anticipation washed over me and I slid off the bed to get a better look. Ashley dangled it over Parkinson's mouth, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Parkinson gave a big snort. Ashley jumped, and dropped it into the molding green pizza onto Parkinson's face.

"Oops," she said audibly.

She glanced at me, her expression a mix of an apology and excitement. There was a moment of silence, in which the pizza was flopping grotesquely off the side of her face. Then a bloodcurdling shriek sounded in the room, making my hair stand on end. Sebastian hissed and streaked out the door.

Parkinson sat up, gasping and sputtering. I doubled over, heaving with laughter.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" shrieked Bullstrode, her hair sticking in every direction.

"I'M GONNA DIE!" Parkinson whimpered, making me collapse into another fit of giggles.

Ashley, however, looked disappointed. "Of course you're not gonna die, you douchebag. You didn't even swallow it. Stop making such a fuss over nothing."

Perfectly calm, she pulled on her robes and stalked out of the dormitory. I tried to follow her example, but I don't think I was successful; I kept breaking into giggles at random times. For example, when I was pulling on my left sock, I caught a glimpse of the green pizza, cracked up, and hit my head on my knee.

I finally got myself recomposed by the time I got up to the common room, where Draco, Blaise, and Ashley were waiting. I caught Ashley's eye and my composure shattered; I had to hold the railing to keep myself from falling back down the stairs. She grinned back.

"What happened down there?" Draco asked as we started towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Yeah, Parkinson was screaming like all of fucking Hell was loose," said Blaise.

"Vanessa is very, very unsanitary," said Ashley, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"You were the one that dropped it on her face," I argued.

"Yes, but _she_ was the one that snorted like a fucking Sasquatch. You would've dropped it too."

"Yeah, but _I _wasn't the one who was dangling it over her face."

"Pft, details."

The boys, who had been watching with a mixture of amusement and confusion, interrupted then.

"Wait, you dropped a _pizza _on Parkinson's face?"

"Oh, this wasn't any ordinary pizza," said Ashley, clearly satisfied with herself. "This pizza was molding and green, had fungus growing out of it, and smelled distinctly of sour milk. How old was it, V?"

Ignoring her sarcastic tone, I said. "About two years."

"That's disgusting," said Blaise in awe.

"Never knew you had it in you, V." said Draco, taking my hand.

We entered the Great Hall and made our way over to the Slytherin table, where another gorilla, Montague was waiting.

"What?" Blaise said rudely, settling himself onto the bench.

"Warrington, Derrick, and Bole have left. We need new Chasers and Beaters. Tryouts are Saturday at 9. Be there," replied Montague, just as rudely.

Draco stared after him.

"Saturday_ morning_?" he said incredulously.

I slid into the seat next Draco and across from Blaise and Ashley.

"Hey V," said Blaise, "Why don't _you_ try out for Chaser? I mean, there's no chance of you becoming a Beater since your all... delicate and girly—OW!"

Ashley had smacked him hard. "Sexist."

"Well it's true—OW! Okay okay!"

Rubbing his arm furiously, he continued. "The point is, Vanessa, you _are _Harry Potter's twin sister. And he _is_ a great Seeker, not that he's better than you, Draco," he added hastily, seeing Draco's scowl. "But you come from a family of good Quidditch players. Wasn't your dad Seeker too?"

"Yeah," I said. "But my mom wasn't. And I've got her genes."

Draco said, "But that's because your mom was a—"

I glared at him.

"—a hard worker," he said quickly. "I mean, she had no time for training and all that."

I continued to glare at him. He grinned sheepishly.

"At least _try_, V," said Ashley. "You know what the say about quitters. That they never win?"

"That was _cheaters_, Ash," I said exasperatedly. "_Cheaters_ never win."

"And she's not exactly quitting if she's never tried," said Blaise.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Ashley said irritably.

"What do you think, Draco?" said Blaise, as the hundreds of owls soared in through the upper windows.

He shrugged. "It's up to her."

"I don't want to," I said promptly.

"Then you don't have to."

I stuck my tongue out across the table at Blaise and Ashley.

"Mind your manners, Potter—HEY!"

A handsome screech owl dropped a package in front of Draco, which had bounced and knocked over Blaise's orange juice, which was dripping steadily into his lap.

"Blaise," Draco complained, reaching over and taking his package out of the puddle of orange juice, "Now it's all soggy."

"_It's _soggy?!" Blaise said incredulously. "Look at me! _I'm _soggy!"

He took a napkin and began scrubbing his robes furiously.

Draco took one look at him, rolled his eyes and unwrapped the package. He thrust it into my hand.

"It's for you."

I looked down. In my hands was a intricately carved wooden box. I had reached down to unfasten the clasp when Draco covered my hand with his.

"Not here," he muttered. "Open it later."

Snape was now moving along the table handing out schedules.

"Turner... Zambini... Malfoy... Potter..."

I groaned out loud. "Herbology, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... this is horrible."

"Why is Herbology horrible?" asked Ashley curiously.

"Don't ask," said Draco.

"It has something to do with a Mandrake, a pair of defective earmuffs, and a couple of hours in the hospital wing," said Blaise.

"I _hate _Herbology," I whined. "Draco, can we skip?"

"Do my ears deceive me?" said Fred, arriving with George, who ruffled my hair most annoyingly. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," I said, shoving it under Fred's nose. "It's the worst Monday in the history of Mondays."

"Fair point, Nessie," said Fred, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" I said suspiciously.

I learned a long time ago never to take anything from Fred and George. Ever.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up," said George cheerily.

"We haven't got an antidote yet," Fred explained.

"On second thought," said George, eyeing Draco. "Malfoy, you can have some free. Absolutely free."

"Don't be mean," I said at the same time Draco said, "Fuck off Weasel Clones."

Fred reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, waving it threateningly. "Care to say that again, Malfoy?"

"No, he doesn't," I said quickly. "And he's really, really sorry."

"Don't take words out of my mouth, V, because I'm _not _sorry. And you better watch where you stick that wand, Weasley, because I'll have you know that I am a prefect—"

"He sounds like Percy," George whispered to me.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed as they continued to threaten each other.

"I want to stick _your _wand up your—"

"Draco, we're gonna be late if we don't get a move on," said Blaise, walking out the door with Ashley.

"Come _on_," I said, tugging on his arm.

He glared back at the Weasley twins.

"THIS ISN'T OVER!"

"Of course it isn't," I sighed, "Bye Fred, bye George."

* * *

The morning passed in a blur. All I remember of Herbology is that Millicent Bullstrode had gotten undiluted bubotuber pus onto her beefy hands and had to be sent to the hospital wing, to Ashley and my delight. In Potions, Snape had us mix a Draught of Peace, which Draco passed with flying colors to no one's surprise, and once again, Harry had gotten a zero for the day. We interpreted dreams in Divination. Draco said that my last dream about swimming to the bottom of the Black Lake and stealing cookies from the merpeople meant that I was in danger of burns. That class makes no sense. I mean, I was swimming in a _lake_. If it meant I was in danger of _drowning_, that's okay, but _burns_? Before I knew it, it was lunch and Blaise and Draco were happily anticipating Umbridge's class. I couldn't see why. Her speech made Binns lectures actually feel _enjoyable._

The class was quiet as it entered the room.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply. Ashley was one of them.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "_That _won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good Afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chorused.

"Has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by William Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge."

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

It was dull... really, really dull. I found myself start to drift off after the first five words, all of which were about three syllables or longer. Several minutes passed. Next to me, Draco was absentmindedly drawing on a spare bit of parchment. I sighed, and stared around the room, looking for something even the least bit interesting to distract me from the boredom. From what I could see from across the room, Hermione hadn't even opened her book, to my complete and utter surprise. Instead, she was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

Half the class was now staring at Hermione. Draco had completely abandoned the Snitch he was attempting (_attempting_) to sketch onto the parchment and was staring at Hermione with utter shock.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" asked Umbridge when she decided that she couldn't ignore her any longer.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well, we're just reading now," said Professor Umbridge, baring her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is--?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice that reminded me of poisoned honey.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells."

"_Using _defensive spells" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron said loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.--?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Umbridge, still smiling like an overgrown toad, turned her hand on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Umbridge stared at my brother with pouchy eyes before choosing to address Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in the poisoned-honey voice.

Ministry-trained. I snorted. Draco nudged me hard in the ribs. I frowned at him, feeling that this was an unfair role change.

"—I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning to use defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—"

"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a—"

"_Hand_, Mr. Potter!"

I personally agreed with him. Any wizard who decided that we are to learn spells in a _secure, risk free_ way clearly is not 'cleverer' than Hermione. I put my hand in the air—

Draco nudged me harder, giving me hell from my already bruised ribs.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to a Gryffindor boy I've seen Harry talking to.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

I resisted the urge to nod furiously in agreement.

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but—"

Umbridge talked over him.

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school—"

"That's exactly what you wish for," said Ashley angrily. "That's exactly what you put in your little letter to Santa and—"

"Right," said Umbridge, turning her pouchy eyes onto Ashley, who glared back unblinkingly, "And your name is--?"

"Jack Frost," said Ashley immediately.

The whole class had gotten quiet; everyone was staring disbelievingly at Ashley and waiting for the explosion.

"Detention, Miss—" She glanced at the parchment on Ashley's desk, which she tried to block from view. "Detention, Miss Turner. And ten points from Slytherin."

Ashley slouched down in her seat while Blaise began whispering furiously to her.

"As I was saying," said Umbridge, "you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," said Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best we ever—"

"_Hand_, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying—you have be en introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—"

"No, we haven't," said Hermione, "we just—"

"_Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"_

Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on _you—"

"Well he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads—"

"_Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" _trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examinations, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvarti, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvarti Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them before?" said Parvarti incredulously.

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough—"

"Yeah, yeah, we heard," I heard Ashley mutter, ignoring a warning look from Blaise.

Professor Umbridge must have heard too, because she said quietly, "Another five points from Slytherin then, Miss Turner."

At her words, many of the Slytherins shot Ashley murderous looks.

"What good is the theory in the real world, anyway?" said Harry loudly, his fist waving in the air.

Professor Umbridge looked up.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry. I could actually feel the temperature in the room begin to increase as Harry's temper rose.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge.

"Hmm, let's think..." said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, "maybe _Lord Voldemort_?"

Draco gave a little shudder at the name; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The classroom went silent and still. Everyone was either staring at either Umbridge or Harry.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"

"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have informed that a Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_."

I stood up before Draco could crack my ribs.

"It is NOT a lie!" Harry and I screamed at the same time.

"IF YOU WEREN'T SO FUCKING CAUGHT UP IN THE FUCKED UP BELIEF THAT EVERYTHING _YOU_ AND YOUR STUPID MINISTRY SAY IS THE TRUTH—"

"I SAW HIM, I FOUGHT HIM!"

"--IF YOU WOULD JUST GIVE HIM A FUCKING CHANCE TO EXPLAIN---"

"Detention, both of you!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o' clock. My office. Along with Miss Turner. I repeat, _this is a _lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark Wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

I sat back down at my desk, shaking with rage. _No one _talks to Harry like that. _No one. _ONLY I'M ALLOWED TO, GODDAMNIT!

Harry, however stood up.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"It was murder," said Harry, shaking. "Voldemort killed him, and you know it."

Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank, reminding me of the frightening calm before the storm. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."

He kicked his chair aside and strode up to the teacher's desk.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Umbridge, holding out a note to him.

He took it from her without saying a word and left the room, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.

"'Basics for Beginners' page five," Umbridge said again.

Two minutes into the silence, Draco pushed a note to me.

_Are you okay? _

Huffing angrily, I balled the scrap of paper in my fist and chucked it at Umbridge's head. It caught fire and disintegrated before it even touched her.

"Another ten points from Slytherin," said Umbridge without looking up.

I can't believe i thought today was going to be a good day.


	6. the Horrors of Homework

A/N: WHATSSSSSSSSUP PEOPLE OF FANFIC WORLD (: i'm thinking of doing a draco/ginny fic, but NOT UNTIL AFTER I'M DONE WITH THIS ONE. ...hm, actually i probably wont at all cause i found the BEST one out there. EVER EVER EVER. anyway, my excuse for this week is: I SPENT THREE DAYS READING ALL OF IT and DUH i had no time to write. but you know how it is at school, right? you get bored and your mind wanders. so during math, history, science, and english, and french... well, pretty much all my classes, i was planning this fic SO i pretty much got the next chappie mapped out. it'll MAYBE be out tomorrow or the next day, depending on the amount of homework i get and whether or not i get hooked on another fic. Sorry, this one was so short.

**DISCLAIMER : i don't own harry potter ): but i WILL one day own a rotweiller named sebastian and he will bite off ashley's ass (: **

* * *

Chapter 6— The Horrors of Homework

Dinner was a quiet event. At least, it was for me. Ashley was raging and storming about Umbridge was ruining the "Hogwarts experience" for her; Draco was casting me anxious looks and asking every couple of seconds if I was all right; everyone else was talking about Harry, not even bothering to keep their voices down.

"—reckons he fought with You-Know-Who—"

"—A COMPLETE AND UTTER COW—"

"—who does he think he's kidding—"

"I DIDN'T WAIT FIVE YEARS TO BE TAUGHT BY THIS TROLL—"

"V, are you sure you're okay?"

"—I told you he was a nutcase—him and his whole family—"

I stood up abruptly, looking at the untouched apple pie that Draco had dumped onto my plate and insisted I eat.

Everyone in the vicinity turned to me eagerly, as if waiting for me to start yelling like Harry had. Okay fine, I had too. Parkinson's pug face was turned towards me, shining with grease and excitement; she was probably expecting me to act like a lunatic and chuck knives at her.

Actually, that idea wasn't half bad.

"I'm full," I said, and started toward the double doors leading into the entrance hall.

"But you haven't eaten anything yet!" Ashley called after me.

"Does this mean you don't want your apple pie?" said Blaise, followed by an, "OW!"

I didn't look back.

* * *

A few minutes later, Draco found me in the common room hunched over Snape's moonstone essay with a pinched look on my face.

"You okay?" he asked, kneeling down beside me.

"Draco," I said in a tortured voice, "what the hell are the properties of moonstones and its uses in potion making?"

For hours, Draco and I struggled through the mountains of homework that we were assigned. Though he breezed through the Potions essay and let me copy, it was well past midnight by the time we finished everything.

I climbed into bed, trying to block out the thunderous roars of Parkinson and Bullstrode's snoring.

The carved wooden box lay forgotten at the foot of my bed.

* * *

The next day even faster than the last, with the exception of double Care of Magical Creatures; this seemed to stretch on forever. Pansy Parksinon had decided to "forgive" Ashley and me for our "immaturity" and was wrapping herself around Draco like Devil's Snare.

When Charms had ended, Ashley and I ran down and gulped down some dinner as Blaise and Draco watched bemusedly. I lingered in my seat for several minutes after I had finished eating. At 3 minutes to five, Ashley yanked me out of my seat with hasty goodbyes to the boys and we bolted down to Umbridge's office.

"You're late," she said sweetly.

"By one minute," Ashley panted.

"And forty-five seconds," Professor Umbridge said, snapping her pocket watch shut. "Take a seat."

Ashley shot a dirty look at Umbridge, whose mouth widened into a terrifying smile. We took seats on either side of Harry.

"Now," said Professor Umbridge, "You all know why you are here, don't you?"

We didn't say anything.

"Of course you do. You are all despicable children with terrible tempers and tell nasty, attention-seeking lies."

I felt Harry stiffen beside me, and the atmosphere grew tense.

However, he didn't say anything.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she added, as we all bent down to open our bags. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed us each a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

"Miss Turner, I want you to write '_I must respect my teachers'_. Mr. Potter, you will write '_I must not tell lies'_. Miss Potter, you will be writing _'I must not let family ties blind me to the truth'._"

"You haven't given us any ink," said Ashley in a tone of forced politeness.

"Oh, you won't need any ink."

With that strange statement in mind, we set the quills to the parchment. I grumbled internally about the unfairness of how my sentence was longer than any of theirs.

_I must not let family ties blind me to the truth._

"Fuck," I heard whisper as I felt a searing pain on the back of my hand.

The words were cut into my hand as if by a scalpel.

"Yes?" said Umbridge.

"Nothing," said Harry quietly.

"Bitch," I hissed under my breath.

_I must not let family ties blind me to the truth. _

_I must not let family ties blind me to the truth. _

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry didn't ask when he would be allowed to stop, and neither did Ashley. I knew I wouldn't either. We all knew she was looking for signs of weakness, and we were never going to show any, not even if we had to sit here all night, cutting our own hands open with this evil quill...

"Come here," she said after what seemed like hours.

She took each of our hands into her stubby, be ringed ones and examined them.

"Miss Turner, Miss Potter, you may both go. But bear in mind the lesson you have learned today."

"Yes Professor Umbridge," we said stiffly.

As we exited her office, I heard her say to Harry, "Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet. Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we?"

"What a foul bitch," Ashley said as soon as the door slammed shut.

* * *

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, unless you count that I was getting behind on homework as 'eventful' as Ashley does. This is why an early Saturday morning found Blaise and I hunched over an Astronomy textbook with looks of extreme pain on our faces.

"Hello ladies," said Ashley cheerfully, munching on toast.

Blaise shot her a quick glare and flexed his muscles in a 'I AM NOT A LADY' gesture but quickly returned to his essay.

"You two look as if you've been tortured," said Ashley happily, plopping down onto the couch.

"Astronomy _is_ torture," I moaned. "Why in the world do we need to know the names of Jupiter's moons, anyway? It's not like we're gonna go live there or anything, are we?"

"Of course not," said Ashley, "because Jupiter really is just a big ball of gas, which means we'd probably fall right through it."

"That's nice," Blaise said distractedly. "Hey V, what's Jupiter's biggest moon again?"

"Um..." I riffled through my notes, "Callisto, I think."

"No it's not," said Ashley. "It's Ganymede."

"Ganymede?" said Blaise. "I thought Ganymede was the one with volcanoes."

"No, that's Io."

"Wait, wait, wait, I thought Io was the one covered in lice."

"No, that's _Europa _and it's covered in _ice_."

Blaise stared at his essay, looking horrified. "_Are you telling me I did my whole essay wrong_?"

"Yup," said Ashley, still cheerful.

Blaise gave a little scream of frustration and took the parchment into his hands. "I—hate—Professor—Sinistra." He said, accenting his words by ripping his homework into halves, then quarters, then eighths and tossing it into the fire.

"This sucks," he groaned.

"Hey," said Draco, striding over to us. He obviously just came from the Great Hall and brought the smell of breakfast with him, making my already grumbling stomach give an embarrassingly loud roar of annoyance. "I brought you some breakfast, V."

He handed me a plate stacked high with my favorites— French toast drenched in maple syrup; pancakes topped with butter, whipped cream a strawberry; bacon with grease that dripped down the sides; and scrambled eggs slathered in ketchup.

"Gross," said Ashley, eyeing the eggs.

"How come you didn't get _me_ any?" said Blaise indignantly. "_I'm _your best friend."

"Yes, but unfortunately, _you_ need to finish your homework and can't be distracted by food," replied Draco, smirking.

Blaise watched me shovel down my eggs with a sulky look on his face.

"Can I have some?" he asked hopefully.

"Not bloody likely," I said thickly, my mouth crammed with pancakes.

"There's whipped cream on your face," said Ashley disgustedly.

Blaise leaned towards me.

"Okay buddy, there's a little thing called _personal space,_" I said, leaning away. "And I would like some."

Blaise looked gloomily back at his essay, then caught the look on Draco's face.

"I was only kidding," he said quickly. "I wasn't going to lick the cream off her face, mate. That's disgusting."

"I second that," said Ashley.

"Anyway," said Draco, rolling his eyes, "who wants to come watch my Quidditch tryouts?"

Blaise faked a coughing fit over his blank parchment and Ashley said very loudly and obviously, "COMING, PROFESSOR SNAPE!"

Draco raised his eyebrows at me. I sighed, and pushed the textbooks away.

"All right, I'll come and watch your dumb tryouts. Although there really is no point since you're pretty much guaranteed as Seeker because you're so talented and—"

"Ha ha, nice try, V," said Draco. "Is watching my tryouts really that bad?"

"Yes," said Blaise immediately. "You keep going on and on about it afterwards."

"I do not."

"If I recall," said Blaise, putting on a dignified look, "_Hem hem_. 'Of course I would have expected to be made Seeker; after all, my talents far outstrip those of the other dunces that attempted to get the position.'"

"I don't sound like that," said Draco indignanty. He turned to me. "Do I?"

"Um...COMING, ASHLEY!" I yelled, trying to get away.

I burst into hysterics at the look on his face.

"We're kidding, Draco."

"Yeah. Of course we're coming to watch your tryouts, mate. Wouldn't miss it for the world," said Blaise with a hint of sarcasm.

"Seen Ashley?" I asked as we made our way over to the stands by the Quidditch pitch.

"Not since this morning when she was pretending to leave when Snape 'called' her," replied Blaise. "You reckon Draco's going to make it as Seeker this year?"

"Of course he is. He makes it every year. Why? Don't you have any faith in the so-called talents of your best friend?"

He shrugged. "I always wondered if maybe he bullied Flint into letting him onto the team."

I snorted. "Not likely. He bribed him, remember?"

"How could I forget with him flaunting his broom every day?"

We laughed. Teasing Draco behind his back always passed the time quicker.

"You can't deny the kid's got talent, though." I said.

"Kid?" Blaise snorted. "Look at you, sounding all grown and mature."

"Oh, look at you sounding as immature as always."

"Thanks, kid."

"I'm really not that much younger than you—"

"HEY LOOK, IT'S THE OTHER POTTER!" screeched an annoying voice from the pitch. "COME TO SEE MY TRUE TALENTS FOR YOURSELF?"

"Pansy Parkinson's trying for Chaser?" I asked, trying to hold back laughter.

"She hasn't got a chance," said Blaise.

"BLAISE!" someone called.

We looked up to see Millicent Bullstrode waving at us—well, Blaise—furiously.

"Oh, here we go," he grumbled.

We took the seat next to Bullstrode very reluctantly and waited for the tryouts to begin.

A flash of mahogany caught my eye.

"Blaise," I said poking him in the ribs, "Is that—"

"_Ashley_?" he finished, gaping in her direction. "She's trying out for Chaser?"

"_And she never bothered to mention it_?"

* * *

**Ashley POV**

I stepped onto the Quidditch pitch, my Nimbus 2000 clutched in my hand. I had begged and begged my mother for a Firebolt, or at _least_ a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. You know what she said to me? She said that I was lucky I had a broomstick at all and I should be happy that I had gotten such a good broom as the Nimbus Two Thousand. But with the Firebolt and the Nimbus Two Thousand and One out, _how_ could I just be happy with a Nimbus Two Thousand?

Daddy says I'm spoiled.

Well, I thought smugly, at least it looks better than the Comet Two-Sixty Parkinson's riding.

Wait, _Parkinson? _What the hell is she doing here?

"Hey Turner," she said, smirking as I took my place in line next to her, "ready to get your butt whooped?"

I snorted. "With that dinosaur you're riding, I'd be surprised if you could outstrip butterflies."

"We'll see who's laughing in the end."

"You won't," I replied. "You'd be out cold in the hospital wing after several blows to the head. I'll see Draco laughing his ass off at your multiple head wounds. Who knows, maybe you'll be in an irreversible coma. Then we'd all be happy."

"Not so brave in bed are you, Turner?"

I rolled my eyes. "Just because I'm not a slut like you are doesn't mean I'm scared to have sex."

"I mean at night," she said, her eyes glinting maliciously. "I hear you talk in your sleep, you know. Who's Aiden Moore, your boyfriend? Did he dump you? Can't blame him, really. You're so ugly I can't believe he put up with you at all."

I took a threatening step toward her. "Shut up. Just shut up before I curse your face off."

She just smirked.

* * *

**Normal POV**

"I can't believe you made it!" I squealed, hugging Ashley's neck.

"I can't believe the look on Parkinson's face," said Blaise, looking awestruck.

"I can't believe you guys aren't excited that _I _also made the team," grumbled Draco.

"Yes, but you _always _make the team," said Blaise.

"Yes, but this time I really wasn't sure I was going to make it. I mean, I almost missed that last one 'cause it was so dark and I couldn't—"

Blaise and I exchanged a here-he-goes-again look.

"I'm tired," announced Ashley. "I'm going to bed."

"But it's only noon," I said, confused.

"Oh—right—er—I need a nap."

Blaise sighed and eyed the table where his essay lay warily. "Alas, the excitement of the morning is over and Blaise Zambini now must return to the torturous task that is his Astronomy essay. For hours, he shall pore over this dull assignment while mentally cursing Professor Sinistra to the deepest pits of hell. He can only hope that if he shall perish whilst completing his task, the subject of Astronomy shall be abolished and every student of the world shall pray, 'Remember Blaise Zambini, the brave man that conquered the Astronomy homework and rid us of its reign of terror forever'."

He trudged over to the desk gloomily.

"He's got to stop doing that," said Draco.

* * *

**A/N: WHATS ASHLEY HIDING?  
WHY DOES BLAISE LIKE TO NARRATE HIS SORRY LIFE TO HIMSELF?  
WHAT IS PANSY GONNA DO ABOUT THE FACT THAT ASHLEY TOTALLY KICKED HER ASS DURING TRYOUTS?**

these are the questions that haunt me o___o  
well, no. they are the questions that YOU, the faithful or not-so-faithful readers should be haunted by. 

**again, sorry about the short-itude of this chapter**

**okay, i know this might seem like magic to you, but REVIEWING makes me write FASTER so GOGOGOGO review (:  
and plus, reviews make my day, which means i have a pretty sad life, but anyway...  
sorry, i cant get over the fact that my life is pointless. __  
anyway, click the little green button down there, mkay? and brighten up my oh-so-sad lifee . **


	7. The Spy and his Special Something

Chapter 7—the Spy and his Special Something

**A/N: ahahahaa, you guys like the chapter title? I was trying to make it an alliteration, but I couldn't find a synonym for task that started with SP—so I just put Something (: HEH, it fits huh ? (: **

**anyway, i KNOW i promised this would be out YESTERDAY, but here i am with this insanely long chapter and an EXCUSE all ready (: What's my excuse this time??? HERE YA GO: okay, well see, on wednesday, i had an IB meeting for my high school; then YESTERDAY i had to send my daddy to the airport. SO YEAH. (: **

**disclaimer: i dont own harry potter, but i DO finally own Maximum Ride... just one book. ): **

**Draco POV **

Father's grey screech owl swooped down and landed in front of me. Blaise automatically cringed away, remembering the incident with the orange juice. I disentangled the letter from Manfried's leg; he nipped a bite of toast from out of Vanessa's hand and took off.

"Was that Man-fried?" asked Vanessa.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not _Man-fried_, V. It's pronounced man-FREET. It's German."

"What was Man-fried doing here?" she asked, completely ignoring my previous statement.

I sighed, and ripped open the letter.

_Draco, _

_Slytherin common room at midnight; make sure you're alone. _

_Father_

This should be fun.

**Vanessa POV **

"Umbridge! High Inquisitor!" fumed Ashley. "What the hell is a High Inquisitor, anyway?"

We were sitting at breakfast in the Great Hall when Fred and George had came over, holding what appeared to be Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet.

"'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch,'" I recited, helping myself to one of Draco's sausages. "And apparently, she's also been an 'immediate success.'"

"What a load of bullshit," said Ashley, continuing to rage. She turned to Draco, pointing an accusing finger at him. He looked up, a strip of bacon hanging out of his mouth. "Your father was quoted in that article. What does he mean 'he feels much better in mind now that he knows that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation'? It's not gonna _be _'fair and objective', Draco Malfoy."

He shrugged, taking a swig of orange juice. "He said it, not me."

"You guys," said Blaise, "we're going to be late _again_ if we don't get moving."

"What are the chances that we'll get an inspected lesson today, do you reckon?" Ashley asked.

"Anyone up for a bet?" said Blaise, jingling the gold in his pocket.

However, Professor Umbridge was not inspecting Herbology, in which I almost lost my hand to the Venomous Tentacula and Blaise lost three Sickles to Draco, Ashley, and me; nor was she in Snape's dungeon when we arrived for double Potions, where my moonstones essay was handed back with a big red A.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L.," said Snape with a smirk as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination."

To no one's surprise, Draco had received a big fat O.

"You got an _A_?" Draco whispered beside me. "But your essay was exactly the same as mine!"

"I told you he was biased," I muttered angrily.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D's."

"Some people got _D's_? Ha!" said Draco in a carrying whisper.

I nudged him, seeing Harry's glare and getting a good idea of who had received a D.

"Not everyone is a genius like you, Draco," I whispered.

"Yeah, I know," he said smugly.

We had our first inspected lesson right before dinner, and right after Blaise changed his prediction by saying that we wouldn't have an inspected lesson the whole week. He grudgingly pulled out another three Sickles as we trudged over to the trestle table where a group of captive bowtruckles were scrabbling around for wood lice like so many living twigs.

I eyed them warily. Why was this class becoming more and more like Herbology? I wish Hagrid would hurry up with whatever he was doing, and show us something interesting. Like a chimera, or something.

We were supposed to feed the wood lice to the bowtruckles, something I was very reluctant to do. I didn't want my hands _anywhere _near those things, especially not after the incident with the Venomous Tentacula this morning. I mentally crossed out Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures on my list of possible job specialties. Now that I think about it, I can also cross out Potions and Arthimancy and Astronomy. Wow, that's pretty sad.

Nearby, I heard Umbridge ask Goyle: "Now, I hear there have been some injuries in this class?"

I picked the bowtruckle up in my hand—in retrospect, this wasn't the best idea—and urged it closer to the wood lice.

"That was me," I heard Draco reply, sounding smug. "I was slashed by a hippogriff."

I must have clenched my fist unintentionally, because a moment later, the bowtruckle had sunk its teeth into my forefinger.

"OW, SHIT!"

"Klutz," I heard Ashley mutter, before running off to catch our bowtruckle before it dashed into the Forbidden Forest.

"I _hate_ this!" I shouted at no one in particular. "First the Tentacula, now a bloody bowtruckle!"

**Draco POV**

It wasn't going to be easy getting everyone out of the common room by midnight, I thought as Blaise, Vanessa, Ashley and I returned to the common room—trailed, of course, by Crabbe and Goyle's grunts and Pansy's high-pitched whine. Today was Monday, the day we had all of Vanessa's worst subjects. Often, she wouldn't be done for several hours after everyone else had gone up. I sighed, wondering how in the world I was supposed to pull this off.

Amazingly, all of us—including Blaise—finished all of our homework before 10 o' clock, mostly due to the fact that Ashley told us all the answers. Vanessa was now curled up against my chest, giggling madly as she watched Ashley dominate Blaise in Wizards' Chess.

"WHAT!" Blaise cried out as his queen was knocked out by one of Ashley's pawns. "OH, COME ON! HE WAS JUST A PATHETIC PAWN!"

Said pawn turned toward Blaise and said in its little voice, "Watch who you're calling pathetic, flunky."

I laughed. "Don't offend the pathetic pawn, Blaise."

"Oh, shut it," he grumbled.

"Check," Ashley announced smugly.

Her pieces started to shout taunts at Blaise, who steadily turned paler and paler.

He hesitantly moved his king one pace.

"HAH!" Ashley said triumphantly. "Checkmate, sucker."

Blaise watched, mouth agape, as his king was torn apart by two bishops and a knight.

"THAT WAS MY GRANDFATHER'S CHESS SET!" he howled.

"Well, believe me," I said, smirking, "that king is glad to be destroyed. I mean, can you believe the torture of having to obey such a lousy chess player as yourself, Blaise?"

"Shut it, Draco," said Blaise, "I'd like to see you try and play a game."

"Of course. Vanessa, will you join me in this game?" I said, holding out my arm like a gentleman escorting a lady to a dance.

She rolled her eyes, and pushed it away.

"Nah, I hate chess."

"You're just scared you're gonna get pulverized," said Ashley, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Do you blame me? I mean, look at Blaise's king."

We all turned back to the board, where his king was still being demolished by the merciless knight. By the time he was done, all that remained of the chess piece was a small pile of dust.

"Your chess set is pure evil," said Blaise, looking aghast.

"Well, what do you expect from someone like me?" said Ashley, grinning. "Come on V, we should get some sleep. It's almost midnight."

My stomach muscles clenched, and I checked my watch. It was three to twelve.

One by one, they stood, stretched and headed toward the stairs.

"Coming, Draco?" Vanessa called.

"Yeah, in a minute."

Blaise shrugged in a its-his-business kind of way and made his way down to the dormitories.

As soon as they left, I knelt down in front of the fireplace, where Father's head had just appeared.

He got to business straightaway. "How's your task coming along?"

I couldn't help the disappointment that rose in my chest. No hello, no 'how are you doing', no 'how's school'; no, all he cares about is the Dark Lord's stupid assignment. Then again, what did I expect?

"It's only been a week, Father," I said.

"To the Dark Lord, time is everything, Draco. Surely—"

"Yes, Father, I know. But like I said, it's only been a week and I've just gotten settled in—"

"How's Vanessa?" he asked abruptly.

"Err—fine, I guess."

"You still see a lot of her then, do you?"

I nodded.

"Draco, you realize who she _is_, don't you?"

I nodded again, stiffly this time. "If you're trying to tell me that I should just ditch her—"

"No, no, Draco," said Father, looking surprised. "You know who her brother is. You know what the Dark Lord wants with him."

I tensed, clenching my fists in my lap.

"What do you want me to do, _use her_? Do you realize what that would mean?"

"No, of course not. Not _use _her. However, it would be very useful if you could, maybe tell us about her going-ons and possibly some inside information."

"You want me to spy on her," I said, disgusted.

"Not spy," he corrected me. "Just keep tabs on her."

I decided this was a time for some Vanessa wisdom.

"Just because you call a cat an owl doesn't actually make it an owl."

"What?"

Oh, right. Normal people don't usually have a clue what Vanessa's talking about.

I sighed. "Father, I won't do this to her."

"Draco, think of the Dark Lord," he insisted.

"That's all we ever think about! Father, all these years you let her come over, were you just using her? Earning her trust and waiting for the moment you can slaughter her?"

He winced. "Slaughter is a bit harsh."

"That's what you're doing though," I said. "This will kill her."

"I know, Draco. And I do care about her, I really do—"

"That's bullshit! If you cared about her—if you care about _me_--you wouldn't be asking me to do this."

"Draco, the Dark Lord—"

"I know!" I hissed. "I know what the Dark Lord wants. But why do we always have to give it to him?"

As soon as the words were out, I knew I had made a big mistake. My father glared at me coldly.

"Do you wish for your family to be slaughtered, Draco? Slaughtered like a greasy pig, slaughtered like—"

I turned away from him and resolutely headed towards the boys dormitory. I could hear Father calling my name but I refused to listen. I headed down the stairs, kicked Sebastian out of the way, and tried to block the words that were echoing inside my head.

_Slaughtered like a pig. _Slaughtered like he wants Vanessa to be slaughtered.

I pushed open the door to my dormitory, where Crabbe and Goyle were snoring loud enough to cause avalanches should we be in the mountains, and sat down on the edge of my four-poster bed, thinking hard.

It comes down to whether or not I value my life and my parents' lives more than Vanessa's life. I couldn't believe I actually had to _choose_. But my options were clear: our lives, or hers.

I buried my face in my hands, tears pricking in the back of my eyes.

Sometimes, doing the Dark Lord's bidding really, really sucks.

**Vanessa POV**

As the weeks progressed and blurred together, Draco steadily grew quieter and quieter. Occasionally, he would perk up enough to throw and insult or whisper a sarcastic comment, but he started keeping to himself most of the time, looking deep in thought.

In the middle of October, Draco and I were again seated in the common room, watching Blaise get destroyed by Ashley at Wizard Chess. I had to admit he was getting better; he could now almost last a full minute without getting one of his pieces killed. This time, however, there was no taunts and witty banter between the two boys. Draco's stared into the fireplace, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. I rested my head on his shoulder. After about five minutes, in which Blaise had narrowly wiggled himself out of losing several times, Draco seemed to realize this and put his arms around me.

"Aw, NO!" cried Blaise as Ashley's knights cornered him.

"OY, POTTER!" someone shouted.

I jerked around in my seat, turning to face Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin Chasers.

"POTTER, HIS MUDBLOOD, AND HIS BLOOD TRAITOR ARE WAITING OUTSIDE. THEY SAY THEY WANT TO TALK TO YOU! ...CAN I HEX THEM?" he added after much thought.

I rolled my eyes and crossed the common room. Sometimes, Quidditch players could be just as stupid as muggle football players.

Pushing open the portrait hole, I found that Pucey _hadn't_ been hallucinating due to the influence of an illegal substance and that Harry really _was_ waiting for me outside.

"Hey Nessie," said Ron enthusiastically, ruffling up my hair.

Grumpily, I arranged it back into place. What is with the Weasleys' and their annoying hair-ruffling habits?

"Don't do that," I muttered half-heartedly, knowing that they would continue to do so no matter what I said.

"Vanessa," said Hermione, all business, "We've—um, I mean I—" she corrected herself, after a piercing look from both Harry and Ron, "had the idea that the way Umbridge teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts is completely useless. So, er, can you meet us in the Hogs' Head?"

"Sure. But how's the Hogs' Head have anything to do with Umbridge's lousy teaching skills?"

"Erm—well, you see, we've decided to kind of, you know, do it ourselves."

"Not really by ourselves," said Ron. "Harry's going to teach us."

My eyebrows shot up, and I turned to him, smirking. "You're going to teach us, big brother?"

"Oh, shut it," he muttered, examining at his sneakers with great interest.

My smirk grew more pronounced. I knew this definitely wasn't his idea, and if he had any say in it, he wouldn't even do it. What a sucker.

"So just meet us at the Hogs' Head and we'll explain everything there," said Hermione nervously.

"Well all right then, if that's all," I said, turning to go back inside.

"And don't tell any of those shifty Slytherin blokes," said Ron suddenly. "On second thought, don't tell _anyone_. I don't trust them."

I rolled my eyes.

"All right, Mr. Paranoid."

* * *

"Let's go to Zonko's," said Blaise once we reached Hogsmeade.

"No, let's get potion supplies," argued Ashley. "I need more Potions supplies."

He looked at her. "_Potion supplies._"

She nodded.

"Are you serious?"

She nodded again.

"Killjoy," he muttered.

"How 'bout this," said Draco, "you guys go to the Apothecary, and V and I will go to Honeydukes. We'll meet at the Three Broomsticks at noon."

Blaise groaned, but headed down the street with Ashley. I distinctly heard him say, "Potion supplies, _honestly_."

So Draco and I took off in the opposite direction in silence. I sneaked a peek at him; his hands were stuffed in his pockets and his lips were pressed together in a tight line.

"What's up?" I asked in a would-be casual tone.

He shrugged.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, and stared at the ground, frustrated by his lack of response.

"Did you want a Fizzing Whisbee?" he asked as we entered Honeydukes. "I'll pay."

I almost smiled, but I realized his attempt at normalcy really was pretty sad.

I shook my head, and pushed him back outside. He started to protest, but I ignored him.

"Okay," I said seriously. "What's up?"

He shrugged again. "It's pretty cold out here."

I ignored this statement.

"Really, Draco, do you think I'm stupid?"

A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

"Now that you mention it... pretty stupid, yeah."

I smiled for real this time. I should've known better than to phrase a question like that. I quickly got serious again.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Do you realize that we hadn't had real conversation in days?"

"This is a real conversation," he pointed out.

"_Draco_."

"Okay, something's wrong. But it's got nothing to do with you." he said, not meeting my eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not. You never do anything wrong."

"Okay, is _that_ what I did wrong?"

"Will you stop blaming yourself?" he asked, exasperated. "This one's entirely my fault. Well no," he said, his expression darkening. "I can't claim all the credit. A big part of it is my Father's fault, too."

"I like your dad."

"I don't."

"So... you're okay?"

"Listen V," he said suddenly, "thanks and all, but just butt out, okay?"

I felt my eyes widen and my jaw dropped. I snapped it shut.

"My mistake," I said in a voice I've never heard before, "I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to care about you."

I turned from him, trying to get away. He grabbed my arm like he had that time by the lake last year. Our first kiss.

"No wait," he pleaded as I pulled away, "Vanessa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

I didn't look at him. I didn't want him to see the traitor tears that were forming my eyes.

"Vanessa please, I'm sorry. I just—you wouldn't understand—I—are you crying?"

Shit.

"No," I said, thanking God that at least my voice was steady.

"You _are_," he said in a tone of awe.

"No, I'm not. Shut up."

He pulled me into the warm shelter of his arms, cradling my head against his chest.

"I'm _so, so_ sorry, V. I'm sorry for everything. I love you," he added as an afterthought.

I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

I pulled away from him, my eyes pleading.

"Please, _please_ don't make me say it."

"Vanessa Rose Potter," said Draco seriously, though his eyes were dancing, "I, Draco Malfoy, love you with all my heart."

"Shut up," I said, burying my face in my hands and turning away.

"Well?" he prompted, "Don't you have something you want to say to me, too?"

"Nope."

His face fell.

"Fine," I said, "I, Vanessa Potter will love Draco Malfoy 'till the day I die."

His eyes widened slightly and the haunted look returned.

"Lovely word choice," he mumbled. Then, he looked up and me and grinned. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

I started to grin back, and he leaned down to kiss me.

"What the hell am I going to do," I heard him mutter under his breath and we pulled away.

I wanted to stay and ponder his meaning, but a quick glance at my watch told me that I was late—_again—_for Harry's meeting at the Hog's Head.

"Shit, I gotta go," I told him, already stumbling down the street.

"Wait, but where are you going?" he called after me.

"Tell you later! Oh, and tell Blaise and Ashley that I'll meet 'em later. Wait for me at the Three Broomsticks, yeah?"

I didn't wait for his answer, concentrating mostly on avoiding tripping over my own feet. I glanced back as I turned a corner, and saw him standing at the same spot, his back to me and his head in his hands.

I skidded to a halt and stared. Tentatively, I took a step towards him. Then, shaking my head, I turned heel and proceeded down the road to the Hogs' Head.

I pushed open the door—the bell jingling faintly—and froze.

"I'M TELLING YOU," a tall, skinny blond boy was yelling in the middle of the bar, "THE OTHER POTTER'S NOT GOING TO SHOW."

"AND I'M TELING _YOU_," shouted Ron, his face as red as his hair, "THAT VANESSA'S DEFINITELY GOING TO COME."

"SHE'S A _SLYTHERIN_," howled the other boy.

"And you're a Hufflepuff," said George, a look of great dislike on his face.

Ginny cleared her throat loudly.

"Um, hi," I said awkwardly.

"Hello, Nessie," said Fred brightly. "We were just talking about you."

"I've noticed," I said dryly, and taking a seat between the George and Ron, who both put their arms around my shoulders and glared unpleasantly at the Hufflepuff boy.

I shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, um," said Hermione in a slightly high-pitched voice, "now that we're all here—"

The Hufflepuff boy shot a look of pure loathing at me. Jeez, what did I do to him?

"—well, I had the idea—that it might be good if people wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts—and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us. Because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts, well, I thought it would be good if we, well took matters into our own hands."

After much pointless bickering in which the blond Hufflepuff boy that I was being to dislike very much hinted many times that Harry was a liar and a show-off, Hermione whipped out a piece of parchment and asked us to all sign our names.

Fred immediately reached out for the parchment and cheerfully signed his name, but many others were looking less than happy at the prospect of putting down their names. I sighed, and took the parchment from George, who had signed it after Fred and had his hand outstretched, and scribbled down my name. This was such a waste of time; Blaise and Ashley were probably tapping their feet and sending murderous looks at the door of the Three Broomsticks, waiting for me to come in.

Once everyone had signed their names, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it into her bag.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred, sounding oddly businesslike and getting to his feet. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, and we'll be seeing you all later."

"Later Nessie," said George, winking at me before ducking out the door.

I tried to dart out the door after them, but the rest of the group squeezed past me in two's and three's, leaving me by the doorway, looking for an opening.

"Hey, Ness," said Ron when he, Harry, Hermione, and I were the only ones left in the bar.

I was just about to scurry out into the street, and turned sharply to face him.

"Yeah?"

"Where ya going?" asked Harry, pushing open the already open door for me like a "gentleman".

"Three Broomsticks," I said, a questioning look on my face.

"Oh, us too," said Ron.

"Shall we go together, then?" offered Harry.

I glanced suspiciously at their smiling, wide-eyed faces—the epitome of innocence—and my suspicions doubled.

"Sure."

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron, glowering at the figure of the skinny Hufflepuff boy in the distance.

"I don't like him much either," admitted Hermione.

"How 'bout you, Ness?" asked Harry, as if determined to let me join in the conversation.

"He's a complete git," I said distractedly, peering around in the fog that hadn't been here when I walked down this street twenty minutes ago. "Where did this fog come from, do you reckon?"

Harry shrugged. "It's the end of October. The weather can get pretty tricky."

"Uh-huh."

I pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and felt myself get blasted with warm air. Damn, that felt nice.

"OY, POTTER!" someone screeched.

Harry and I swiveled our heads around in the same second. I tensed, expecting Parkinson and instead, found Ashley, a look of fury on her face.

"WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR OVER AN HOUR!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring at her, mouths agape.

"I know, I know," I said apologetically, "I was with them."

I pointed to my brother and his friends, and they literally took a step back. Ashley turned toward them, flames shooting from her nostrils. Ron started to tremble.

Suddenly, Ashley's expression cleared.

"Hi, I'm Ashley Turner, nice to meet you," she said cheerfully, shaking a very pale Hermione's hand.

Bemused, I turned to the table where Draco and Blaise were laughing hysterically.

"Women," Draco said, "and their mood swings."

"I'll give you a mood swing," I muttered, making absolutely no sense whatsoever.

He grinned, and pushed a butterbeer toward me. "Blaise paid."

"Hey V," said Blaise, leaning close to me and grinning. "Draco and I were thinking—"

"There's a shock," I muttered.

Draco winked at me.

"—name your first son Scorpius and your first daughter Ambrosia."

"What kind of names are those?" I demanded. "Why can't we have something sweet and cute like...Logan and Kayla?"

Both boys made faces.

"Because those are sissy names."

"Are you _trying_ to get them beat up at school?"

"It's better than Scorpius," I said rather defensively. "I mean, _honestly_, who names their child Scorpius? And why are we even talking about this?" I snapped as Draco opened his mouth to argue.

"Hey guys," said Ashley, sliding onto the bench next to me. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh, nothing much," I said casually. "Draco and Blaise were just being stupid pricks."

"Oh, so the usual?"

I nodded. "The usual."

"That's just mean," Blaise whined.

I laughed and glanced at Draco, who had suddenly gone white. His eyes followed something behind me and his face was tense.

As casually as I could, I turned in my seat to look at what he was staring at. Everything was normal. Dean Thomas was messing around with Seamus and a couple of other Gryffindor girls; Cho Chang and a bunch of her friends were laughing in a corner; Katie Bell had disappeared into the bathroom; and the Hufflepuff bloke from before, Zacharias was glowering at something from the corner of the pub.

I turned back to him, confusion clear on my face. But the taut set of his shoulders had disappeared and he was laughing wholeheartedly at some stupid thing that Blaise had just said.

"Hey," he said, after a few moments, "I need to go back to the castle. I've got detention with McGonagall."

Blaise and Ashley grimaced sympathetically. I eyed him skeptically. He smiled and planted a kiss on my lips.

"See you guys later."

My eyes followed him all the way out of the pub and down the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katie Bell emerge from the restroom, a package in her hand. I wouldn't have noticed her if not for the package.

Did she take that thing into the restroom? What a weirdo.

Later that day, news spread about the attack on Katie.

* * *

i updated fast this time, but i dont know about next time, kay? ill try, but the only reason a super longass chapter like this was out so fast was because i had absolutely nothing to do at school. but now, since i failed a math quiz (SEE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT) i now have to... -shudder- STUDY.


	8. Tensions Rising

**A/N: omg, did everyone hear about the Chile earthquake? And right before that was the Japan earthquake. And a few weeks before that was the Haiti earthquake. The Chile was 8.8, the Japan was 7.0 and... well, I forgot about Haiti. Hehe. But anyway, me and Ashley are scared now ): My friend says that it's the end of the world, but she might just be being her normal overdramatic self. For those of you that actually read my insanely long author notes, do you remember a few chapters back when I was talking about California's overdue earthquake? Fuck, I'm scared. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but when the earthquake hits Cali and I die, maybe I'll own Harry Potter in heaven. Wish me luck ): **

Chapter 8—Tensions Rising

"—Malcolm Baddock reckons that Millicent Bulstrode stole his Charms homework," Blaise was saying. "What a priss."

"Oh, they have the same initials," I said knowledgably.

"OY, DOUCHES!" someone shouted.

I turned around the see Ashley running toward us, anger plain on her features.

"Did you see the new Educational Decree Umbridge has put up? It's completely outrageous."

"Nope," I said. "What's it say?"

"All student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded. An organization, society, team, group, or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor. No student organization, society, team, group, or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group, or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled." Ashley recited.

Blaise gaped at her. "_You memorized all that?"_

"That's not the point," she said irritably. "Do you realize she's including Quidditch in this?"

"What's your point?" said Draco lazily. "She'll give us permission to re-form in no time. Let's face it: no one can resist my charisma."

"What charisma?" I asked innocently.

He snorted.

"Wow, you sure are charming, Draco Malfoy."

"I don't think you guys understand," said Ashley heatedly. "She's. Including. Quidditch. In. This. I'M TELLING YOU, SHE'S OUT TO GET ME!"

"Chill," said Draco, "if it's so damn important for you, I'll go ask her for re-form right now."

He stood up from the Slytherin table and made his way over to the staff table.

Ashley turned to me. "I don't think he's getting the point."

"What's the point again?"

"THAT BITCH IS OUT TO GET ME!"

"Keep your voice down," Blaise hissed.

I checked my watch. "Blaise, don't you have something you want to say?"

He looked at me questioningly.

"It's 8:25," I hinted.

He stood abruptly, yanking me and Ashley out of our seats.

"WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

When Transfiguration ended an hour and a half later, I was feeling quite pleased with myself, having successfully Vanished my mouse before Draco had.

"I couldn't believe I wasn't able to Vanish a stupid little mouse," fumed Draco as we headed down toward the dungeons.

"It was easy," said Ashley loftily.

"Just because you're top of every class," said Draco. "You're going to give that mudblood Granger a run for her money."

"Stop fussing, Draco," I said. "You're still the best at Potions."

"Yeah," he agreed wholeheartedly. "I am, aren't I?"

"What am I the best at?" asked Blaise.

"Annoying the crap out of me," answered Ashley.

"Unfair," he muttered.

Draco and I laughed at Blaise's surlyness as we arrived at the dungeons.

"Hi Draco," said Parkinson, batting her eyelashes at him.

Crabbe and Goyle both grunted their greetings as well.

"Check it out," whispered Draco a few moments later.

I followed his glance toward the end of the hallway to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione arriving.

"Draco, don't—"

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway," said Draco loudly and obviously, waving around the official-looking piece of parchment Umbridge had signed. "I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... It'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"

Ashley and Blaise rolled their eyes and ignored him. I groaned.

"I mean," said Draco, taking no notice, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance. From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years. And as for Potter, my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's. Apparently, they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

He made a grotesque face his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Parkinson shrieked with laughter.

I turned my back on him, joining Blaise and Ashley, who were watching Draco rather sadly.

"I hate when he gets like this," said Blaise, shaking his head. "I mean, one second he's the sweet and lovable Draco Malfoy we all know and love—"

Ashley and I snorted.

"One second he's Draco," Blaise corrected himself, "and the next he's—"

"Neville, _no!_" Harry was shouting.

He leapt forward, seizing the back of his robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Draco, who looked momentarily shocked.

Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, flexing their arms menacingly. Silently, I thanked whatever God that was watching out for us that Draco had somehow managed to make gorilla-friends that could defend him whenever he made a stupid mistake such as this.

The dungeon door swung open. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Harry and Ron were wrestling with Neville.

"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape said coldly. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

I stepped into the dungeon, taking an empty table far from my usual seat with Draco. Blaise and Ashley sat in front of me. As I took out my copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ (Honestly, why was everything getting Herbology-ified?), I saw Draco walk into the dungeon, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and start walking toward our usual table. He stopped halfway, looking around in confusion. Then, spotting me, he grinned and headed toward me.

I set my bag on the seat next to me in a very obvious 'I don't want you to sit here' gesture. At least, it should've been obvious... but seeing as it was Draco...

"Hey V, move your bag, will you?"

I turned my face from him, feeling like a pouty five-year-old. He must have thought that too, because he smirked and walked over to the side I was facing.

"Hey V," he said, still smirking.

"Go away," I muttered.

"Oh, you're not mad about what happened out there, are you?" he said in surprise.

"Mr. Malfoy, please take your seat," said Snape, surveying the room.

"Yes, Professor," he said, pushing my bag off the chair and settling himself down.

Draco Malfoy, you are such a prat.

That night in the common room, I refused to talk to him. I knew I was being stupid. He made fun of my brother and his friends on a daily basis; I didn't understand why it was so different this time. I guess it was just one time too many.

"Come on V," he begged, "don't you want to copy my Potions homework? Don't you want to laugh at my many spelling mistakes?"

I didn't answer. I continued to rack my brain, trying to figure out what the hell a Chinese Chomping Cabbage was. Whatever it was, I still hate Herbology.

The next few days passed uneventfully. I was avoiding speaking to Draco at all costs. Oh, that's eventful, you say? Well maybe it is to you, but like I said, I don't care about Draco anymore. Yes, it's true. No, I'm not lying. No, I'm not in denial. Do you want me to continue with my story, or not? ...Thank you.

Well, as I was saying before I was so _rudely interrupted_, I avoid speaking to Draco at all costs now, choosing instead to sit by Ashley during lessons. Blaise and Draco sat together, often conversing in low tones.

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"No, Blaise, I have been punching her repeatedly in the face. Why, you don't think that would work?"

"You know Draco, sometimes your sarcasm hurts."

Tuning them out, I turned to my raven.

"_Silencio!_"

The raven cawed louder, gazing at me reproachfully.

"That's pathetic," said Ashley, rolling up her sleeves. "Watch this: _Silencio!_"

Her raven opened its mouth twice; no sound came out, but he stared at her with an expression of deepest loathing.

"Oh, very good, Miss Turner," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Five points to Slytherin!"

Ashley smirked at me.

"I don't understand why you won't just give him another chance," Ashley was saying as we headed toward the Great Hall for dinner. "I mean, Draco's obviously sorry."

"I'm not giving him another chance, Ash," I said exasperatedly. "I've been giving him chances for five years."

"But he's _really_ sorry."

Ashley and I both glanced back. Blaise was chatting animatedly to Malcolm Baddock, a fourth year Slytherin, while Draco stared mournfully at the floor.

"It's quite sad, really," said Ashley. "I think he's learned his lesson."

Between Ashley's badgering, Blaise's meaningful looks, and Draco's glum expression, I was definitely feeling rather guilty. Which is why, after practicing Silencing Charms on Blaise's cat Dickless (I will never know why he chose to call his poor cat Dickless), I approached Draco, feeling more than a little awkward.

"Uh Draco, can I talk to you?" I said, a blush creeping up my neck.

Blaise nudged Draco, grinning widely. I glared at him; this was so not helping with the whole blushing thing.

He nodded and led me out the common room. As soon as the portrait hole shut, he began talking a mile a minute.

"I'm so sorry, V. I have no idea what came over me. Please, _please, _forgive me. I won't do it again, I _swear_, just one last chance, V, just _one_. _Please_."

There was a moment when we just stared at each other, his eyes pleading, mine calculating. I had counted three please's in that apology.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mumbled, opening my arms for him. "C'mere, you sappy, oversensitive lump."

He grinned and stepped into my embrace, kissing the top of my head.

"Oversensitive?" he whispered. "Look who's talking, V."

He pressed his lips against me, making my retort stick in my throat. Slowly, he trailed his hands down my arms, raising goosebumps—good goosebumps—wherever he touched.

Draco intertwined both his hands in mine, and put them around his neck. I pulled myself closer.

"Oh, _sick_!"

"Scarred for life, I'm telling you."

We broke apart, flushed and breathing heavily. Harry and Ron were at the end of the short corridor, looks of identical disgust on their faces.

"I come down here to tell my sister ONE THING and I find her SNOGGING Draco Malfoy out in the OPEN," said Harry, shaking his head. "Where is the JUSTICE in this world?"

"I'm never coming down here again," said Ron, looking green.

"What do you want, Pothead, Weaselface?" said Draco, his voice cold again.

I shot him a 'didn't you _just_ tell me you weren't going to do that anymore?' look and translated his Draco-speak to civilized-human talk.

"Did you guys want something?"

"Oh, there are many things that we want," said Ron, glaring at Draco.

"Too bad you can't afford any of it, Weasley," Draco sneered.

I gave him another _look_.

"What?" he asked innocently. "How come you're not giving them looks? You can't possibly expect me to just take their attitude."

"Why can't you guys just get along?" I asked, mostly to Harry and Ron.

"Because he's _Malfoy_," said Harry in a _duh_ voice.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Oh come on, Ness," said Ron, "even if you don't want to admit it, the family you belong to really does matter."

For a moment, Draco looked as if he were about to sneer a retort; then he snapped his mouth shut and shot me a meaningful look. I sighed in relief and smiled gratefully at him.

"So there was something you guys wanted to say to me?" I prompted Harry and Ron.

"Oh, err—"Ron's eyes darted nervously toward Draco.

"We found a place for the thing we were talking about in Hogs' Head," said Harry.

Much later, I would remember the tension in Draco's set shoulders. But for now, I was blissfully naïve.

"Oh," I said, beaming. "Brilliant."

* * *

Draco, Blaise, Ashley, and I were out by the lake, enjoying the adrenaline rush that swimming in the lake in the middle of November gave us. I shivered violently on the pier, my teeth chattering too hard to laugh as Blaise pushed Ashley into deeper water. She shook the water out of her hair, reminding me forcefully of Sebastian after coming out of the bath.

My adrenaline high had worn off a couple minutes ago, leaving me cold and exhausted. Draco, Blaise, and Ashley probably had higher stamina than me. Not that I was surprised. I have the physical capabilities of a five year old cripple.

"V!" Draco called from the middle of the lake. "Watch this!"

He took a deep breath, and dived. I waited for him to come up. He didn't.

I shook my head, smiling slightly. What a show off.

"AH!" I shrieked, as something grabbed my leg, causing me to tumble into the freezing depths of the Black Lake.

Okay, first of all, the Black Lake is a misnomer. The lake only looks black from the surface; when you're actually inside, it turns your vision green. And right in front of me, grinning madly from ear to ear, was my green-tinged boyfriend that had scared the living shit out of me.

I kicked to the surface, spluttering and shaking my wet hair out of my eyes.

"DRACO MALFOY!" I yelled as he surfaced beside me, still grinning.

"You were shaking like a leaf," he explained. "If you sat there any longer, you would've gotten hypothermia. You should be thanking me, V."

"Oh, so to prevent me from getting hypothermia, which is a disease caused by usually low body temperature, you decided to reduce my body temperature by pulling me into waters that are probably near _freezing_. Very smart, Draco Malfoy. How could I ever have doubted you?"

"You just got to move around a little, V. Look, I can't even feel the cold anymore."

I looked him over skeptically. "That's not because you're moving around, Draco. That's probably due to lack of blood circulation."

Ashley popped up beside me, a stream of lake water shooting from her mouth.

"Hey ya'll, what ya guys talkin' 'bout?"

"Diseases and blood circulation."

"Oh yeck. _Bo-ring_," she sang, and dived back down.

"Let's head back before someone else interrupts our stimulating conversation," Draco suggested.

"Finally a statement proving he has something of a brain," I mumbled.

"Hey watch it," Draco warned as I climbed back onto the pier, dripping wet, or I might not let you copy my next Potions essay."

"Is it me, or does Snape assign way too many essays?" I grumbled. "_Accio towels!_"

Two fluffy white towels came rushing toward us. I pulled one around myself and offered one to Draco like the good girlfriend I am.

He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, are you a witch or not?"

"I used a Summoning Charm!" I cried indignantly.

"Yeah well," he said, smirking, "this is what a real wizard does."

He pointed his wand at me, and at one, I was as warm as I had been a couple hours ago, lounging in front of the fire place.

"Show-off," I muttered.

"Oh come on," he said, bumping his shoulder against mine as we made our way back to the castle. "Show some gratitude. At least you're not soaking wet anymore."

I glared at him.

"And who was the one that pushed me into the lake, hence the cause of my soaking wetness?"

"I didn't push you. Technically, I grabbed your leg and _pulled _you in."

"Draco, the details do not matter."

**Harry POV**

The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Snekoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that I was _sure_ had hung in the fake Moody's office.

"These will be good when we're practicing Stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.

"And just look at these books!" said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. She looked at me, her face glowing. "Harry, this is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"

And without further ado she slid _Jinxes for the Jinxed _from its shelf, sank onto the nearest cushion, and began to read.

I stared at her, bemused for a moment; apparently, the presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right.

There was a gentle knock on the door. I looked around; Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean had arrived.

"Whoa," said Dean, staring around, impressed. "What is this place?"

I started to explain, but before I finished more people had arrived, and I had to start all over again. And you know how I hate repeating myself. By the time eight o' clock had arrived, every cushion was occupied... every cushion but one.

"Er—has anyone seen Vanessa?" I asked.

Many people shook their heads. Anthony Goldstein, however, spoke up.

"Hannah and I saw her," he said, "by the Black Lake earlier this afternoon with that Malfoy bloke and some other Slytherin."

"By the Black Lake?" I asked, confused.

"Er—well—technically, she was _in _the Black Lake."

"_In _the Black Lake?"

Several people turned to each other and giggled.

**Vanessa POV**

I settled myself into a cushy armchair, feeling warm and comfortable. I closed my eyes and leaned back. This was nice. I could probably fall asleep right now.

A loud, irritable yowl jerked me upright.

"Oh hello Sebastian," I said pleasantly, scooping him up into my lap.

"What's that damn cat of yours want now?" asked Draco, whose eyes were closed.

Sebastian looked at me in his way that reminded me of Uncle Vernon right before Harry was to be punished. He nudged my arm. I stared blankly at him. With an irritable meow, he nudged it again. I looked at my arm in confusion.

"What?" I asked him.

If he were human, I could've sworn he would have rolled his eyes.

Sebastian extended a paw and tapped my watch.

I yelped and sprung up. Sebastian tumbled to the ground, yowling.

"Shit, I'm late!"

Sebastian pranced off, shooting me a reproachful look. I dashed out of the common room and headed for the seventh floor.

I threw the door open. A flying wand hit me squarely between the eyes, leaving a small, but distinct burn.

"HEY!" I yelled, rubbing the sore spot on my face.

One of the third year muggleborns that I had seen following Harry around ran up to me, looking half sheepish half frightened.

"Sorry," he mumbled, picking his wand up from the ground.

"Vanessa!" Harry called, coming up to me. "Why are you always late?"

"I lose track of time."

"That's why I gave you that watch."

"Yeah, but I forget to check it."

Harry sighed. "Whatever. We're calling ourselves Dumbledore's Army. Get with a partner and start practicing."

I stared at him, stunned. "Whoa, you totally just sounded like a teacher just then."

"That's kind of the point," he said exasperatedly.

"Okay Mr. BossyTeacherPants. One question, though: Why couldn't we be the FUCK YOU, UMBRIDGE Association?"

Harry looked at me. And walked away.

"Hey, no fair!" I called after him. "Teacher, I was asking an honest question!"

* * *

**A/N: -sighs and adopts well-educated expression- Four score and seven years ago... okay, maybe not that long, but the POINT IS the last chapter was 5000 WORDS LONG and i got 2 reviews =_= WHERE IS THE HEART? WHERE IS THE LOVE? honestly, ya'll are reminding me of ashley. well this ones only about 3000. well, it was 3500 on Word. i dont know how long it's gonna be on here, cause for some reason, FF always has more words o_o anyone wanna actually count the words and check who's right? HA, you have no life (: jkk. i love you all that read this fic cause i actually really like it now and i'm totally planning to finish this one. ...well, i was planning to finish the other ones too... BUT LETS NOT DWELL ON THE PAST... or my many flaws. because there are MANY. **

**anyway, REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY (: AND EVERYONE LIKES HAPPY, RIGHT? (: **


	9. Death Eater

**A/n: NO JIBBER-JABBER TODAY!!!! (yes, i too am very proud of myself) LETS GET STRAIGHT TO BUSINESS!!!!!! i have 3 things to say:**

**1.) thanks for the review dudesss (:  
2.) this one is SHORT. well for me, anyway. but i'm planning something for the next one and it'll make this chapter too long and kinda scattered-ish.  
3.) ...i forgot. **

**disclaimer: i don't own harry potter but i AM the only one allowed to offer people crappy asian lollipops only to steal it from them and chuck it as far as i can once they take a lick (: **

Chapter 9—Death Eater

As the first Quidditch game of the season—Gryffindor vs. Slytherin—approached, Montague was insisting on almost daily practices. Due to Draco and Ashley's annoying practice schedule, Blaise and I were often left alone to deal with our homework in the common room. This was something I could never honestly say I enjoyed. It's not that I don't _like_ Blaise... but let's be honest here: would _you_ be able to concentrate on Charms if the air was pierced every few seconds by a bloodcurdling scream as the guy next to you (_Blaise!_) tried to find a way to cut his toenails using magic.

I did finish my essay eventually, though I wasn't sure whether or not I had passed... and sure enough, my bloodstained paper was handed back later that week with a big, fat P. you know, sometimes I really hate Blaise. Charms was supposed to be my _best_ subject. What else am I supposed to be good at?

Oftentimes, I would see Ashley and Draco huddled around a table near midnight struggling—okay; they probably weren't _struggling_ since they're both such goddamned geniuses—to finish their homework. I would smirk and enjoy the look of pain of their faces. But hey, they totally deserved it. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR LEAVING ME WITH THE TOENAIL-CLIPPING BLAISE ZABINI!!!

At breakfast on the day of the match, Blaise and I watched with mild bemusement as Draco and Ashley shoveled everything within their reach into their mouths. They reminded me forcibly of Crabbe and Goyle, who were three feet away, doing the exact same thing. I guess it kind of makes sense since they're both on the Quidditch team as well. Then again, they always eat like that.

"MATCH!" Ashley yelled thickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. She was still chewing furiously.

"But I'm not done!" I protested, grabbing a plate of pancakes.

Ashley and Draco hurried into the changing room without a backwards look and Blaise and I headed into the stands.

"Put this one," said Blaise, holding something out to me.

I took it from him and examined it.

Weasley is Our King.

"What is it?"

He ignored me and waved at a third year Slytherin, Astoria Greengrass.

I nudged him in the ribs.

"Ouch—_what?_ Oh, that? It's just some friendly competition between rival Quidditch teams, V. Don't worry about it."

"Well all right, then." I said hesitantly, pinning it above the Slytherin symbol on my robes.

As the match proceeded, I discovered that there was a song that went along with the badge. They really must have put a lot of effort into this. What a waste of time.

_Weasley was born in a bin  
__He always lets the Quaffle in.  
__Weasley will make sure we win.  
__Weasley is our king. _

I frowned. And the lyrics weren't very nice. Oh well, it's all 'friendly competition' anyway, according to Blaise. I will never understand Quidditch.

Gryffindors won again—I wasn't surprised, though Blaise was really upset. Jeesh, these people get so worked up over a game. I don't really understand it. But then again, I wouldn't expect myself to. Remember: I have the physical capabilities of a five year old cripple.

"I guess Potter saved Weasley's neck," Blaise grumbled as we headed down onto the pitch.

"Ashley saves your neck constantly," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's different. _I_ happen to be stunningly attractive."

I snorted.

"That's what you—_what are they doing_?"

Harry and George lunged at Draco and began to punch every part of him that he could reach.

I sprinted toward the melee, yelling at the top of my voice. They didn't hear me over all the commotion; girls were screaming, Parkinson probably one of them; George was swearing; Draco was yelling; Fred was shouting and attempting to get free; a whistle was blowing; the crowd was bellowing.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU GUYS THINK YOU'RE DOING?! GET OFF HIM, HARRY. GEORGE, STOP IT—"This was when I realized that screaming at them probably wasn't going to help. I whipped out my wand, and hollered. "IMPEDI-FUCKING-MENTA!" but of course, nothing happened. I really need to get my habit of cursing whenever I'm upset under control.

Lucky for me—and Draco—Madame Hooch cast the curse that I had failed to and Harry and George flew backwards. They had stopped fighting, which is exactly what I had wanted to happen, but for a second, I stood frozen, deliberating on whether to check if Draco was okay, or to yell at Harry and George. The noise around me peaked as Madame Hooch began to scold them, so I decided that she could handle it.

I knelt down beside Draco.

"All right, Draco?"

He spit blood out onto the grass.

"Never better," he said sarcastically.

I took his face into my hands and began my examination. There were multiple scratches along his cheeks, blood was still trickling from his mouth, and his eyes showed definite signs of the beginnings of a black eye. They were considered only minor injuries—nothing that Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be able to fix—but _still..._ I looked over at where George and Harry were being led away from the pitch by McGonagall and felt an overwhelming desire to kick them both in a place where they would not like to be kicked.

"Whoa," said Ashley, staring at me with a strange expression on her face. "V, you're scary when you have a murderous look on your face."

"I almost crapped myself just then," said Blaise in the same tone of voice.

I ignored them.

"We should get Draco up to the hospital wing."

* * *

I took _One Thousand Magical Water Plants _from the shelf in the library, sat down at own of the tables, and started my essay on gillyweed for Snape. Why am I in the library at this time of night, you ask? Because Draco is still in the hospital wing—George fractured a rib—and my Potions essay is due tomorrow. Which means, yes, I am screwed.

After I crossed out my lousy attempt at an introduction for the fifth time, I became aware that someone was now sitting across from me. I looked up. And looked back down.

"Be mature, Ness."

"No."

"You're being such a baby."

"Ouch."

He sighed, and I chanced a glance. Harry was still staring at me. I quickly looked back down at my pathetic excuse for a paper.

"Ness, listen to me _please_."

"Why?"

He misinterpreted my question. Instead of _Why should I listen to you_? which was really what I was asking, he thought I meant _Why did you do that to Draco_? which, now that I think about it, probably would've been a good question.

"He was insulting out parents, Ness."

I flipped a page, and copied down the side-effects of using gillyweed.

"So? He does that everyday." I replied, and then groaned in frustration as I misspelled _gills_.

"This time was different. You should've heard him. Ness, you know I've been given a lifetime ban?"

I didn't answer.

"Honestly, Nessie, why do you put up with him at all?"

"He's not all bad." I said defensively. "Sometimes, he even comes close to being pleasant."

I was joking, but Harry seemed to take me seriously.

"You could do better than someone who 'comes close to being pleasant', Ness. I heard that Terry Boot thought that you were really pretty—"

"Terry Boot is one year younger than me, Harry." I pointed out, scanning my first paragraph. It wasn't too terrible.

"It could work out—"

"_No_."

There was a pause, in which I turned to the next chapter and began taking notes on the properties of gillyweed.

"Ness, there's something I need to tell you."

"You've got the hots for Ginny Weasley." I said, not taking my eyes off the textbook.

"No—"

"You're gay."

"No—"

"Draco Malfoy is a slimy git."

He hesitated. "Well, close."

I snorted.

"Vanessa, I'm serious."

"Aren't you always?"

"_Vanessa_."

"Okay, okay. He's a slimy git. Noted."

"And he's also a Death Eater, Vanessa."

I looked up at him, my expression bored. He sighed in exasperation; clearly, this wasn't the reaction he had been expecting.

"He _is_, Ness. I'm serious."

"Uh huh," I said, my tone reflecting my disbelief perfectly.

"Have you seen his left arm lately?"

"No, Harry. I don't usually go around examining other people's arms, unlike one paranoid someone I know."

He groaned. "Vanessa, _please_. Just—just be careful around him, okay?"

I grunted noncommittally.

He sighed and stood up.

"Did you want to copy my essay?"

I shook my head.

"All right, then. See you, Ness. And—think about what I said, okay?"

I listened to his retreating footsteps echo down the corridor, my quill hovering above the parchment. When they had disappeared altogether, I snapped the book shut and stalked out of the library, resentful thoughts surfacing in my mind.

Draco a Death Eater? What a load of waffle.

* * *

I headed up to the hospital wing, planning to say good night to Draco. This turned out to be unnecessary, as I ran into him—literally... I really need to stop doing that—past the statue of the one-eyed witch. He caught me before I fell.

"You're such a klutz," he said, smiling fondly at me.

I took in his words, then his expression, confused whether or not this was supposed to be a complement.

"Er—thanks."

He smiled again and planted a swift kiss on my lips. We started back to the Slytherin common room.

"Finish your essay yet?" he asked, casually swinging our intertwined hands.

"Yeah. By myself, too."

"_Really_?"

"Always the tone of surprise," I grumbled.

"Would you rather have me deadpan like you do?"

"Go ahead. But deadpanning is patented to me, so I could legally sue you if you do."

"You amaze me."

"Well, I have been known to quite amazing at times."

He laughed. "Sure you're not getting yourself confused with someone else, V? Like me, perchance?"

"Oh look at you, using big words you barely understand the meaning of."

"Manfried."

"That's your comeback? What the hell is a man-freak anyway?"

"My dad's owl, remember?"

I looked at him, confused. "But that's Man-fried."

"No, it's pronounced man-freet."

"But it's _spelled _Man-fried."

This argument carried us all the way back to the common room, where Blaise and Ashley were—

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

They sprang apart, looking guilty.

"Oh, um, hi guys," said Ashley in an unusually high voice.

"BLAISE—YOU—I—WHAT—"

Many people were turned toward us, laughing openly.

Draco and I continued to gape at Ashley and Blaise, who were staring resolutely in opposite directions, who had been—a moment ago—_snogging_.

Blaise cleared his throat. "Well... this is awkward."

"Right well," said Ashley, still high-pitched. "I'll just head down to the dorms, then..."

"I'll come with you," said Blaise quickly.

They hurried down the steps, almost tripping over themselves in their haste to get away from us.

"Did you know?" I asked promptly.

"No, I didn't. Hence this look of complete disbelief and revulsion on my face."

"I thought they couldn't stand each other," I said in wonder, sinking into an armchair.

"Yeah, well you know what they say."

"No, actually I don't. What do they say?"

"How the hell should I know? You're the one that always spouts your clever muggle crap. Aren't _you_ supposed to tell me what they say?"

I swatted at his head in a futile attempt to ruffle his annoyingly perfect hair. He dodged out of the way just in time and laughed.

"Go to bed, V," he said, kissing my forehead once. "You've worked hard today, and I am so proud of you. To think that my darling Vanessa can write her Potions essay all by herself now!"

"Oh, shut it."

**A/N: what confuses me is why people think that Blaise is a girl. I mean, JKR makes it _perfectly clear _that he's a DUDE. Ahaha, but I googled "Blaise Zabini" and there was a bunch of girls, and I was like o__O RETARDS. I mean, do these people _not_ read the books? I mean, even in the movie Blaise is a DUDE. ...he has like 2 seconds of screen time, though. LOL. Like in Half-Blood Prince, where Draco was being all snotty about being not coming back to Hogwarts for 7th year (which he did anyway. LOLOL sucker), Blaise started laughing and he was like "Amused, Blaise? We'll see who's laughing in the end." LOLOL and that's it (: wait, I think he was next to some dude in the Slug Club. But yeah, Blaise has no speaking lines in the movie. YET (: they better do something about that in Deathly Hallows. **

**Oh, by the way, I looked up Astoria Greengrass. And at the part where I say that Blaise waved at third year Slytherin Asto****ria Greengrass was totally accurate (: **

**REVIEWS WOULD BE FUCKN AWESOME, AND EVERYONE LIKES TO BE FUCKN AWESOME SO DROP A REVIEW AND BE FUCKN AWESOME (: **


	10. Lucky

**A/N: ahhh, chapter 10!!!! Hahahaa. YAY. I'm so proud of myself. (: **

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP, but i DO own some spaghetti that my momma's making for dinner (: **

Chapter 10—Lucky

I headed downstairs, rubbing my eyes sleepily and looking forward to my warm four poster bed. I pushed open the door, nudged Sebastian off my pillow, and changed into my jammies. I was just about to crawl under the covers, when a very pale and frightened looking Ashley spoke.

"V, there's something I have to tell you."

"Wait 'till morning," I said immediately.

"No, V," she said urgently. "You have to know _now_."

"All right," I said, grumbling a little bit.

Although she had insisted that I had to know '_now_'', she hesitated and her eyes darted around the room nervously.

"You can't tell _anyone_, V. You have to promise me."

"Swear."

She didn't look altogether reassured, but continued anyway.

"I've been having these dreams, V. They're not good. Something's going to happen." She took a deep breath. "Do you know why I switched to Hogwarts in the first place?"

I shook my head.

"It's because of Aiden Moore. We were—erm—you know... together. And—er—"

It's because of a guy. So typical.

"—well he just turned out not to be who he said he was."

She shifted uncomfortably and refused to meet my eyes.

"Okay, Ash," I said in my slow, calm therapist voice. "Give me all the details, and start from the beginning."

She looked up at me, her eyes distant.

"It was my first year at Durmstrang. And as you probably know, Durmstrang is located in the far, far north, but Bulgarian was the language everyone used outside of class. And since I definitely didn't speak Bulgarian and I had a hard time figuring out what the hell those Bulgarian accents were saying, I didn't have many friends. I was the stupid English girl that no one wanted to talk to because they didn't want to A, bother themselves by having to speak English all the time to someone or B, they wanted nothing to do with me at all. So yeah, I was pretty pathetic. There was this other English kid, and as you can probably guess, his name was Aiden Moore. But unlike me, he had friends. He played for the Quidditch team, and was second only to Krum. And of course, he spoke perfect Bulgarian. So basically, there was me, the stupid English loser, and then there was him, the smartass English Quidditch player. Oh yeah, and he was three years older than me. So uh, he was in his fourth year by the time I came."

I interrupted her here; there was something very important I had to say.

"Ash, I honestly can't imagine you ever being stupid."

She smiled a little ruefully.

"That's 'cause he taught me everything. Like I said, he was a fucking whiz kid. He practically could've taken his N.E. in his fourth year. He's pureblood, too. I guess that's why he was so smart. His parents had really high expectations for him."

"What I can't figure out," I said, smirking a little bit, "is why a smart guy like Aiden Moore would go for a dumb English kid like you."

She swatted at me.

"Isn't it obvious, V? He fell for my natural charm."

I snorted so loudly that Parkinson groaned and rolled over in her sleep, muttering, "Mm, Draco."

Okay, I really didn't want to know what she was dreaming about.

"Anyway," said Ashley, "he approached me some time around Christmas and we totally clicked. We were instant friends, although he didn't often like to hang around me because... well you know, I was the English freak."

I pursed my lips.

"But when we _were _together, it was like... I don't know, would you think it was cheesy is I said it was like heaven? Yeah, you would. The point is, it was really amazing. He had the best stories to tell and he was always joking around... and then in our third year, he finally snapped when one of his friends called me a—actually, I don't know what he called me. He said it in Bulgarian and Aiden would never tell me what it meant. It sounded bad, though. Anyway, he hexed Vanchev. I heard that he had to stay in the hospital wing for two weeks before he was back to normal. But yeah, I started to join in Aiden's group of friends. They were never really my friends, though. I think they just put up with me just 'cause they loved Aiden so much. And at the end of my third year—"

She cut off, blushing furiously.

"Whoa," I said, awestruck. "French kiss at thirteen, Ash? You hussy."

"Shut up," she said, still scarlet-faced.

"Did you want to describe it to me?"

"_No!_"

"Shame."

"_Moving on_," she said forcibly. "I stayed at his house over summer—"

I cut in again. "_Please _tell me you're still a virgin."

"Of course I am!"

"Then by all means, continue."

She huffed angrily, but plowed on. "I stayed at his house over summer and went to the Quidditch World Cup with him. And you heard about the Dark Mark, didn't you? Of course you did. And the poor muggles being tortured... well, Aiden and I hid from the Death Eaters, though it was only because I insisted on it. Aiden said that we were perfectly safe since we're both pureblood."

"That's exactly what Draco said, too," I mused.

"Yeah, boys are pretty dumb. But anyway, the next year was the Triwizard Tournament, right? Aiden was one of the representatives for our school. Did you know that you could bring a guest? And Aiden chose me. I remember seeing you with Draco." she smirked now. "You guys were kissing during the second task, weren't you?"

It was my turn to blush. "At least I was fourteen."

"Fourteen is not much better than thirteen."

"Whatever. Are you going to tell me your story, or can I go to sleep now?"

"Hey, you're the one that wanted the _whole story _with _all the details_. Okay, so he didn't get picked. But you knew that. Krum got picked, much to Aiden's disappointment; he always comes second to Krum. And so yadda yadda yadda, your brother won, Diggory died, and _drama_. Then Dumbledore says that Moldy Voldy's back and everyone starts saying how you and your brother are barking and Dumbledore's going senile. Igor Karkaroff disappears and is found dead a month later."

Her face turns solemn now.

"You know who killed him, V?"

"Erm, do I want to know?"

She rolled her eyes. "It wasn't me. I might be pure evil, but I'm not a kill-old-guys-with-goatees kind of person. But Aiden is."

At that precise moment, Sebastian had crawled into my lap and nuzzled up against me. Her words didn't sink in right away.

"Wait, _what_? So _Aiden _killed Karkaroff?"

"Yup," said Ashley, still looking grim. "He's officially a Death Eater now, last time I heard."

"Wait—you said Aiden went to the Triwizard Tournament? Which one was he?"

"Dark hair, pretty tall, fucking handsome, and totally ripped with blue, blue fucking blue eyes. That one."

"Don't know him."

"Wouldn't expect you to. You and Draco were sort of lost in your own little world that year, weren't you?"

"Oh, shut up."

"No, you shut up. I'm not done with my story yet."

"Oh, right. What happened to Aiden after that? Are you still talking to him?"

"What? No way. You think he'd still date someone like me once he's all big, bad Death Eater? Fat chance," she snorted.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's all right. He was a dick."

I raised my eyebrows. "Mr. Dark Hair Pretty Tall Fucking Handsome and Totally Ripped with Blue Blue Fucking Blue Eyes was a dick?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Uh, can you say sour grapes?"

"Sour grapes," she said promptly. "I have no clue what that means, anyway. Is it one of your muggle wisdom things again? Anyway, he really was a complete dick."

"Really," I said, disbelief coloring my tone.

"Really," she said defiantly.

We stared each other down. But I, of course, had much practice with Harry, and won easily. She broke down without a few moments.

"All right, all right. He's not a total dick, although he is a pretty big one, you've got to admit. I really, really liked him, V. If he hadn't turned out to be such a douche bag Death Eater, I might've even come to love him."

"Oh. My. Merlin. Ashley Turner is talking about love. Somebody call the Daily Prophet."

"Shut up, I'm serious. It really scares me that I might've loved him. Because now... V, I'm having dreams about him. And before you say anything, it wasn't at all sappy, gushy and mushy. They were dark dreams, V. I keep seeing something. Some snake-like dude that I'm guessing is probably You-Know-Who and then there's Aiden looking all man-ish and hot as usual. And they're talking about something. A plan of some sort. And it involves you and Harry. The Harry part doesn't surprise me at all, since that snake dude is always trying to kill him, but it was the part about you that got me thinking. What would a scary evil mastermind like You-Know-Who want with a pathetic nitwit like Vanessa Potter, I asked myself. And the idea came to me in one marvelous stroke of brilliance—"

"Do you have any modesty in that body of yours, Ashley Turner?" I asked.

"Of course I do. But wouldn't you much rather hear about my stroke of wisdom than the habits of my mind? Both are fascinating, of course, but we can talk about that later."

I rolled my eyes.

"What would he want with Vanessa Potter? Well, obviously she's of no real use herself, but Harry is really, extremely protective of her and _duh_ Voldy can use her to get to him! How was that, V?"

"I'm glad you think I'm useless."

"Why thank you, I'm pretty glad myself."

"So... that's the end of your story, right?"

"Yep."

"I can go to sleep now, right?"

"What? _No! _Don't you want to ponder the deeper meaning of my story toss and turn restlessly?"

"Uh, no. Yeah, I really just want to go to sleep right now. I'll ponder the deeper meaning tomorrow."

She sighed. "The moral of my brilliant story, V, is that you should be thankful for what you've got."

"What have I got?" I asked, confused.

"Uh, _hello_? Draco! You know, you are the reason some boys go to sleep crying at night, all right? Because you don't _appreciate them_."

"I do too appreciate them."

"No, you don't. Not really. Just think of it this way, V. The next time Draco pisses you off or makes an insulting comment, just think, Well at least he's not a fucking dick that's going to abandon me for You-Know-Who. Because—take it from someone who cares, V—Draco would _never_ do that to you. Like, never, ever, ever. Remember on the first day of school when I accused you and Draco of being one of those mushy gushy lovey dovey couples? That was me and Aiden before. I guess I was kind of jealous that you'd have someone like Draco, but now since I know you better and actually somewhat like you; it would totally break my heart if something came between you guys. I'm serious, feel lucky that your Draco's not Aiden and would never be a Death Eater."

"Yeah," I said distantly, thinking of what Harry had said to me in the library only a few minutes ago. "Lucky."

"What?" asked Ashley suspiciously. "You've got your I'm-not-totally-paying-attention-to-you-because-I'm-thinking-about-something-else and your I'm-not-telling-you-something look on, and when those two looks come together, that means trouble. So tell me, because it's not fair that I just poured my heart out to you right there and you're still keeping stuff from me. So spill the beans, Sherlock."

I sighed, hating her inability to be fooled, and 'spilled the beans'. I told her everything Harry had told me, and watched as her face became more and more apprehensive.

"You don't believe him, do you?" I demanded. "Because just a few minutes ago, you told me that there was no way he would he would become a Death Eater."

She rolled her eyes. "Nah, I just told you that to make you appreciate him more. Harry's theory makes sense. _Have _you seen his left arm lately?"

"No," I said stiffly. "Now I have a question for you: does _everyone _go around gawking at people's arms except me?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I glared at her.

"Anyway, another reason why it makes sense? Explain where he disappears to every night."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused. "He doesn't disappear."

"Yeah, he does," said Ashley, nodding knowledgeably. "After we all go to bed, and Blaise is snoring away, Draco sneaks back down to do... whatever it is that he does."

I raised my eyebrows. "And you know this... _how_?"

"None of your beeswax," she said breezily. Then, she looked at me seriously. "All joking aside, something bad is going to happen. I can feel it."

"Something bad? What kind of bad?"

"How the hell should I know?" she snapped. "I'm not a fucking Seer."

"All right, all right, sorry," I apologized hastily.

Ashley huffed at her angrily and shot me a glare before collapsing onto her bed. I distinctly heard her mutter,

"Fucking Trelawney."

I smiled faintly and lay back onto my pillow. Despite what I had told Ashley, I _was _thinking about what she had told me.

So Aiden Moore was her first kiss, and now he was a Death Eater. Wow, that must really suck. So she wanted me to appreciate Draco. _At least he isn't a Death Eater_... yet. I rolled onto my side, staring at the rolls of fat on the sleeping Sebastian.

I wondered if Ashley had truly gotten over Aiden as easily as she claimed.

I wondered if Ashley had ever cried herself to sleep over him before.

It was likely.

Then again, it wasn't.

Draco was disappearing after we went to bed? I had a sudden urge to climb out of bed and see for myself whether or not he was in his dormitory. But then again... did I really want to know? _No, _I decided_, I didn't. _

I closed my eyes and memories flashed before my closed eyelids as if they were imprinted there.

_Draco was taking my hand and pulling me into his arms; Draco was laughing and kissing my nose; Draco was joking and making me laugh so hard that tears run down my cheeks. Draco was sneering and bullying first years; Draco was taunting my friends, insulting their families; Draco was hexing a second year Gryffindor. _I couldn't understand how these could all be the same person.

I don't know when my thoughts shifted into dreams, but I was now aware that the Draco Malfoy standing in front of me was not the Draco I loved.

This Draco was smirking, a smirk that was completely unfamiliar to me and nowhere near as endearing as my Draco's.

He raised his left arm, the sleeve of his robes pulled back to reveal the Dark Mark branded into his arm. He pointed the wand directly at me, and grinned, revealing several small, pointed teeth.

"You never should've trusted me, V," he said in a voice that strangely resembled Kreacher's.

My vision started to tunnel, pulling me away from Draco. I opened my mouth to scream, and reached for him; I didn't want to be parted from him, not even when he was this peculiar, dark version of himself. I screamed again, fighting desperately against the unknown forces dragging me away.

The darkness was closing in around me. I could no longer see my surroundings. I couldn't see anything but Draco's face, which was contorted with rage. His bared his sharp teeth, and spat out a curse. There was a flash of green light.

I blinked into the pale blue light or early morning, feeling severely disoriented. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably; they smelled of sweat. I looked to my right, where my slumbering tabby should've been. He was gone.

"V?"

I turned and faced Ashley. What I could see of her face in the half-light was set in lines of worry. In her arms was Sebastian, his fur sticking out randomly. He mewled what I supposed was his Good Morning.

"Are you okay? You sounded as if you were having a seizure, or something," said Ashley.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Dude, you're like drenched in sweat," she said disbelievingly.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It was just a bad dream."

She nodded sympathetically. "Same here."

"The same one?"

She nodded.

"D'you reckon it's some kind of sign or something?"

She snorted. "This is life, V, not Sherlock Holmes: Crazy Vision Girl Edition."

"Clever."

"Aren't I? So what was your dream about?"'

"Draco."

"Oh merlin, don't tell me: you and Draco were having a romantic evening and things got really intense and virtually lost your virginity."

"Uh no," I replied, smirking. "Why, have you had that dream with Aiden?"

She blushed scarlet. "No, why would you think that?"

My smirk widened. She scowled at me.

"Are you going to sit there and smirk all day, or are you going to tell me about your non-horny dream so I can interpret it like the good little crazy vision girl I am?"

I sighed, but said, "He killed me."

"Ooh, bummer."

"That's your interpretation? You're a crappy Seer."

"Okay, number one: I am _not _a Seer. Number two: call me one again, and I will rip your tongue out your mouths. Number 3, I ain't I nterpretin' _nothing_ unless there's a fat sack of Galleons waiting for me after it."

"Okay, now you're pushing it."

She smiled sweetly, reminding me horribly of Umbridge. "yes, I know."

**A/N: Ugh, in case you guys haven't figured it out already, I live in California. And sunny, sunny California ain't so sunny, sunny anymore. The weather is such a fucking pain. I look out the window in the morning, see gray skies, and dress in a sweater. Two hours later, it's 90 fucking degrees. OR I look out the window, and it's bright and sunny like California should be. I dress in shorts, tank top and a nice little jacket. Two hours later, storm clouds come outta no-fucking-where and it starts to **_**rain**_**. I'm not even kidding. And the winds here are so annoying now. MY HAIR IS PERMANTLY TANGLED D: but enough about my rant on the weather, how was your day? Mine was crap. We had an earthquake drill today and like I said, it was fucking COLD and the wind was blowing my hair around into death knots (ouch). I wonder if you guys think it's weird to have an earthquake drill. Someone told me that people in the Midwest like Texas and stuff have tornado drills. Is that true? And people in hurricane regions have hurricane drills. And people in Washington, and Oregon, and Hawaii have tsunami drills. I think that's really weird. So do you guys think an earthquake drill is weird? I wonder why California doesn't have tsunami drills... **

**OH AND GrimmJowsGirll, you are NOT fucking awesome, you are FUCKING AWESSSOMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEE because I THINK you've read all my stories and reviewed. PRETTY SURE. Which is whhhhy, you're FUCKING AWESOMMMMMMEEEEEEE. I'm starting to feel that I cuss too much. It all started last Friday, when I went to Knott's Berry Farm. You know how it is on rollercoaster's don't you? –going up that huge, huge slope- "holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck." –tumbling down toward the earth- "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" You don't? Wow, now I feel weird. **

**Oh, and who was the other guy that reviewed? One sec, lemme check. OH, JainaZekk621... man, you rock too (: I think you reviewed on most of my chapters, yeah? THANKS SOO MUCH (: I will make you cookies. I swear I will. And I will mail it over to wherever in the world you are and SCREW THE POSTMAN. It might take awhile though. Because I still have no clue how to turn on my freaking oven. Oh, GrimmJowsGirll, I will bake you BROWNIES. (: **

**Thanks for the reviews because I am a grateful author and grateful authors say thank you (: your reviews make my day and feedback is awesome. So drop a review, make my day, and in my world, you will rock the socks off everyone's dickless feet. (Did that make sense? No? Fuck—I MEAN... freak.. o__o no, it's just not the same.) **


	11. the Slug Club

A/N: **heeey ya'll (: how long's it been since i updated? i've got no clue. anyway, this chapter gets kind of lyrical-y, especiallly around the middle-end-ish. and sorry about the cliffie at the end (: but it was getting waay too long, ya know? **

**DISCLAIMER: i don't own HP but i own some burnt-black chocolate chip cookies that i put in the microwave too long ): **

Chapter 11—Slug Club

As Christmas approached and the weather grew steadily colder, Draco grew more and more distant. He ate his meals quickly and wasn't seen until bed time. Occasionally, I would walk in on Draco and Blaise during an argument, only to have them hastily change the subject when they saw I was within earshot. Then of course, they would deny everything.

It was Saturday morning, and already I was heading off to the library to research for my Herbology paper (yeah, my weekend was not off to a good start).

Voices drifted back to me along the corridor, becoming more and more distinct as I walked.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" asked a furious male voice, leaving me in no question who were arguing on a bright, Saturday morning. "What happened to the Bell girl—"

"—it was an accident!"

"Did you even think about what would happen if—"

"Of course I did! She'll never forgive me, that much is obvious. It's just—I just have no choice."

I turned the corner. Sure enough, it was Blaise and Draco, not even bothering to keep their voices down.

Blaise spotted me right away, and immediately tried to change the subject.

"Gryffindor's just going down the toilet," he said loudly, trying to drown out Draco. "I mean, with the Bell girl gone, that Weaselette is filling in for her. Add Weasley as the Keeper and they're pretty much done for this season." Then, he feigned surprised and said brightly, "Well, hello there V!"

"Hey," I said, suspicion dripping off my voice. "I'm just going to the library. Herbology paper, you know?"

They both grimaced sympathetically, but didn't offer to help. I shrugged. Boys are boys.

I had already decided the fourth time I had interrupted them that I wouldn't push and pry the source of their argument from them. They would tell me when they wanted to. At least, that's what I told myself.

I headed up a flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor landing, and crashed straight into Slughorn.

I quickly muttered apologies and scrambled away, chastising myself for not watching where I was going.

Slughorn was one of Professor Dumbledore's friends. He had told us at dinner last Thursday that Slughorn was here specifically for Christmas. Apparently, he threw amazing Christmas parties. I walked quickly down the hall, not completely aware of my surroundings, which is probably why I crashed—again—into Draco.

"I—what—you were—but—" I spluttered hopelessly. "But you were back there!"

He smirked and gestured at the statue of Edric the Evil.

"Shortcut," he explained.

"Cheater," I mumbled and walked past him into the library.

I had tucked the nightmare into the deepest pockets at the back of my mind, but apparently, these pockets weren't deep enough; nor were they far enough.

He caught up to me quickly and took my hand.

"I just couldn't bear the thought of you being tortured to death all by yourself," he told me, helping me reach _Magical Plants of Asia _on the top shelf.

I laughed. "That's thoughtful of you."

We finished in about an hour and headed down to the lake, where Blaise and Ashley were waiting with a basket of food a bag of tricks.

Ashley turned when she heard our footsteps, her mahogany hair swinging around and hitting Blaise full in the face.

"HEY DRACO, HEY V! GUESS WHAT! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A PICNIC! Oh gosh, sorry about that, Blaise."

"Um," I looked around. The sky was dreary and gray and the wind was whipping my hair around into death knots. "Ash, it's thirty degrees out, and you want to have a _picnic_?"

"Completely mental," Draco muttered, then pointed at the basket. "Hey, what's in there?"

"What's in there?" asked Blaise dramatically. "_What's in there_? What's in there is the reason why we _need _to have a picnic! Ash and I spent a good part of our morning nicking food from the kitchens to have this picnic and you're saying no because it'sCOLD out here?! An insult to our pride! We worked hard for this stuff!"

"No you didn't," Draco snorted. "The kitchens are run by house elves. They practically give away the food."

Blaise and Ashley scoffed, "Details."

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shield myself from the freezing winds. "I'm going back inside."

"You can't!" Ashley cried desperately.

I turned to her. "And why not?"

"_Because_," said Blaise furiously, "Ash and I have been planning this for days!"

Draco and I exchanged exasperated looks, but sat reluctantly onto the checkered blanket.

The picnic wasn't _bad_ exactly, but it wasn't exactly enjoyable either. My hands were shaking so much from the cold that I dropped the chocolate éclair I had been eating. Draco draped his cloak around me.

"Fucking mental," I heard him mutter again.

Blaise and Ashley were in their own disgusting, love-filled world and didn't take notice. Ashley gave Blaise a soppy look and stuffed half a sandwich into his mouth. I rolled my eyes. And she accused me of being nauseatingly sweet?

I leaned into Draco and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the howling winds.

Meetings for Dumbledore's Army were like a routine torture nowadays. It wasn't as if I was _bad_ at the spells. In fact, I had managed such a good Impediment Jinx that I had knocked Cho Chang out for thirty minutes straight. No, the bad part was being accused by Zacharias Smith that I had been trying to sabotage the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. When she awoke, she had praised me for my excellent wand work and assured everyone that I had not intentionally been trying to hurt her. No one else said anything after that, but I could still feel the distrust and hatred radiating from them in waves.

I shivered violently. I wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or from the memory of the DA's piercing looks.

Fred and George, of course, were either oblivious or faking it really well. They volunteered to pair with me so often that Cho had asked them if they both had a crush on me. And, being Fred and George, they had promptly put their arms around me and announced that we were about to be married. To be honest, I would much rather be paired up with Fred and George than Cho—they had a much better sense of humor—but what Cho had said about me not intentionally wanting to hurt her was untrue. I actually enjoyed hexing her because I loved the look of anxiety and worry on Harry's face after I successfully curse her into unconsciousness. It wasn't for something stupid like trying to sabotage the Quidditch team, of course. I just liked the way he looked at her and then how he denied it every time I asked him about it.

The winds blew around me more fiercely, and I shivered again, goosebumps rising on my arms. Draco wrapped his arms around me, cradling my body against his. His lips brushed against my ear, and he whispered, low and urgent,

"Whatever you do, V, do not open your eyes."

So of course, I opened them—and screamed bloody murder. Blaise and Ashley broke apart their snog-fest, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"_What_?"

"Oy, how 'bout some respect, V?"

"REPSECT!" I shrieked, sounding incredibly deranged. "HOW 'BOUT SHOWING _US_ SOME RESPECT! WHO SNOGS LIKE THAT OUT IN PUBLIC? IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE?"

"Lots of people, in case you haven't noticed."

"THAT'S GROSS!"

"That's just 'cause you're a priss."

"HEY!" I yelled, standing up and pointing my wand at Blaise's nose. "I AM NOT A—"

"Erm, Vanessa Potter?"

We all turned. There was a small, sandy blonde first year standing by our picnic blanket, shivering his ass off.

"Maybe this isn't the right time," he said timidly. "But Slughorn wanted me to invite you and you," he pointed at Blaise and me, "to dinner on Thursday night."

"Dinner?" asked Blaise in disbelief. "What is this, a date?"

"And why aren't I invited?" cried Ashley.

The first year trembled even more violently under the combined force of our glares.

"I—I—I don't know!" he squeaked, terrified. "I'm sorry!"

And he ran back across the grounds, tripping over his own feet.

We turned to each other.

"Wow, we scared the cream cheese out of him," Ashley remarked.

"Cream cheese?" asked Blaise.

"Yeah, it's a muggle food. Wizards don't eat it because it's extremely unhealthy, but I think it's just amazing."

"Aw, it's so adorable how you know all this stuff about muggles."

"WHAT!" I cried. "Just a few minutes ago, you were saying how stupid I was for knowing stuff about muggles!"

Blaise didn't answer; he was still staring at Ashley. I had a sickening feeling that they were about to kiss again.

"Let's go inside," Draco suggested wisely.

* * *

After Care of Magical Creatures on Thursday (Hagrid had come back, much to Draco's displeasure), Blaise and I bid Ashley and Draco farewell and headed off to one of the unused classrooms that Slughorn was calling his office.

"What do you reckon Slughorn wants with us, anyway?" Blaise was saying.

I shrugged "I dunno, do I?"

We walked across the grounds in silence for a while. Just as we reached the entrance hall, a soft girly voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up interrupted us.

"And where, Miss Potter, do you think you are going?"

I turned slowly, a look of determined innocence on my face.

"Slughorn's invited us to dinner, Professor."

"But why on earth would someone as distinguished as Horace Slughorn want you at his dinner party?" she asked sweetly.

"I don't know, Professor," I said, my voice carefully polite. "Perhaps you should ask him yourself."

"Oh, I intend to."

"Well if that's all, we'll be off."

Blaise and I walked casually up to the first floor landing, and glanced back to check whether or not Umbridge was still watching us. She was gazing at something on the grounds with an outward expression of mild curiosity.

"What did that old toad need to stop us for?" Blaise muttered under his breath. "It's not like we were doing anything wrong."

Blaise pushed open the door.

"Ah, Miss Potter, Mr. Zabini," Slughorn greeted us, "so glad you could make it!"

I half-smiled and Blaise inclined his head slightly before taking a seat beside Marcus Belby, who I recognized as a sixth year Ravenclaw. I took the empty seat beside Blaise and nodded in acknowledgment at Cormac Mclaggen, who I've heard is lusting after Hemione. This didn't exactly warm him to me.

Within a few minutes, Ginny had arrived. She smiled slightly in my direction. She was followed by Melinda Bobbins, a third year Ravenclaw; and the Carrow twins. They nodded at Blaise, but shot me a disparaging look. Harry and Neville arrived last, both looking thoroughly disheveled.

"Sorry Professor," said Harry, "Neville and I were helping Hagrid with the thestrals."

"Not to worry, Harry m'boy!" said Slughorn enthusiastically. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking white and scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats. Harry looked around the table, smiled at me, then immediately scowled at Blaise. I'm starting to think he's bipolar.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn addressed Harry and Neville. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, and of course you know Vanessa Potter—"

I grinned at Neville; he didn't return the gesture. Blaise was glaring at the pair of Gryffindors with intense dislike. I sighed. This stupid House rivalry thing was a pain in the—

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other--? No?"

McLaggen raised a hand in greeting. Harry was scrutinizing the space between us. I scooted away from him and toward Blaise. Harry pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, apparently deciding that he would rather have me be closer to McLaggen than Blaise. I sighed and scooted back toward McLaggen. This is ridiculous.

Supper passed all right, I suppose, though_ how_ I was expected to eat while Slughorn kept pestering us with questions about our family or whatnot... Blaise, who was interrogated after McLaggen turned out to have a mother who had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold. So Blaise was immeasurably rich. Why wasn't I surprised? It was Harry's turn next. And mine, I suppose.

"And now," said Slughorn, shifting in his seat and trying to look at both me and Harry at the same time. "The Potters! _Where _to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface of the of your lives!" he contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "'The Chosen One', some are calling you now!"

"And others are calling him 'The Deluded One'" Blaise muttered under his breath.

I shot him a dirty look.

"Of course," continued Slughorn, "there have been rumors for years...i remember when—well—after that _terrible _night—Lily—James—and you survived—and the word was that you two must have powers beyond the ordinary—"

Beside me, Blaise sounded as though he were having a hard time containing his laughter. An angry voice broke out from behind Slughorn.

"Yeah, Zabini, because _you're_ so talented... at posing..."

"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Ginny who was glaring at Blaise. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I passed her in the halls. I wouldn't cross her!"

Blaise smirked, and I knew he was finding the possibility of the 'Weaslette' being able to harm him quite comical.

"Anyway," said Slughorn, turning back to Harry.

And so it continued. I was getting immensely bored, seeing as I had run out of food. I glanced at Blaise's full plate.

"Can I have some of that?" I whispered.

He pushed his plate toward me, and I attacked it ferociously. In the back of my mind, I wondered why Blaise wasn't running his mouth and talking like he usually did, but I wasn't too bothered by it. This food was _delicious_. It was definitely worth going through the torture of listening to Slughorn going on and on about how _great_ Harry was.

Back at the common room, Ashley was sprawled across a couch, fast asleep. Her Potions homework was in her lap. Blaise snuck up behind her, and planted a kiss right on her mouth. Ashley jerked awake, smiled and proceeded to have another snog fest. I turned my back on them, looking around for Draco. I couldn't see him anywhere.

"Has anyone seen Draco?" I asked no one in particular.

Parkinson and Bulstrode, who had been sitting in a nearby armchair, looked up and me and smirked. I decided to ignore that and got started on my Muggle Studies poem:

**Identity**

_Let them be as flowers,  
always watered, fed, guarded, admired,  
but harnessed to a pot of dirt.  
I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed,  
clinging on cliffs, like an eagle  
wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.  
To have broken through the surface of stone,  
to live, to feel exposed to the madness  
of the vast, eternal sky.  
To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea,  
carrying my soul, my seed, beyond the mountains of time  
or into the abyss of the bizarre  
I'd rather be unseen, and if  
then shunned by everyone,  
than to be a pleasant-smelling flower,  
growing in clusters in the fertile valleys,  
where they're praised, handled, and plucked  
by greedy, human hands.  
I'd rather smell of musty, green stench  
than of sweet, fragrant lilac.  
If I could stand alone, strong and free,  
I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed._

* * *

Later that week, the same frightened first year approached us in the Great Hall. Apparently, Slughorn was planning to have a Christmas party before the holidays.

"And it says here we're allowed to bring a guest," said Blaise, showing the invite to Ashley. "So how about it, Ash? Be my date?"

"Want to come with me to the party, Draco?" I asked, turning to him.

He was staring at his plate of untouched food, gripping his fork tightly and appearing to be in deep thought. I looked closer; his complexion was tinged with gray and there was dark circles under his eyes. I wondered if he had even gotten any sleep last night.

"Draco?" I said gently. He looked up at me, but not really seeing me, his eyes still distant. "Is everything okay?"

"Wha—Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."

"Well okay," I said, not entirely convinced. "Did you want to go to Slughorn's party with me?"

"Slughorn's--? Oh—no, sorry V, I'm busy."

He returned to his previous position of staring at his plate.

I continued to peek at him periodically throughout the meal, feeling more and more anxious. Suddenly, I stood up and walked quickly out toward the entrance hall. As I passed through the double doors, I glanced back; Ashley and Blaise were laughing; Draco had not moved.

I began to run. The castle's gray walls sped by me; many of the portraits yelled questions at me as I passed. I ignored all of them, trying to escape the truth that was threatening to explode within me. My feet pounded the stone floor in time with my thoughts.

_No. No. No. No. _The steady stream of denial.

I flew past Peeves, who blew a raspberry at me.

_Can't be. _

I dashed by a group of Ravenclaws, who called insults at me.

_He wouldn't. _

Finally, I collapsed under a large birch tree, and tilted my head toward the sun. The weather today was just like the day we had the picnic that Blaise and Ashley had apparently been planning for days. The wind whipped my hair around, and I pulled Draco's cloak tighter around me. I stared up at the sky, at the sun who gave us light, but no heat on a day like this. Just like that day.

As I closed my eyes, I could picture the scene as clearly as if it were happening before me. I smiled as I remembered the way Draco had held me close. I pictured the looks of indignation on Ashley and Blaise's face as we interrupted them, and had to fight the desire to laugh.

_I'm overreacting again_, I told myself. _There's probably a very logical explanation as to why Draco looks so stressed. I mean, all of us are stressed. It's our O.W.L's year. _

_But_, said a tiny voice in the back of my head_, O.W.L.'s are ages away—_

I shoved it away, replaying the picnic scene in my head.

_You're pretty smart most of the time_, I told the voice_, but right now, I don't need you. Come back during my examinations. _

* * *

Ashley looked stunning in her silver dress robes and her elegant pony tail. She stood at the foot of the stairs, clucking her tongue and tapping her foot, waiting for Blaise to come up from the dormitories. When he finally emerged, he was still wearing his school robes.

"What?" he asked, taking in her expression.

"You're kidding, right?" said Ashley, steering him back down the stairs. "Nononono, you go back down there and change into something decent."

I distinctly heard him mutter, "Just like my mother," as he trudged back down the stairs.

"Boys, _honestly_," said Ashley, shaking her head. "They have no sense of fashion at all. Well at least Blaise doesn't. Draco somewhat does. Speaking of the self-declared Slytherin Prince, where is he?"

"He's not coming," I answered, straightening out the wrinkles of my jade dress robes.

I could've sworn she stumbled a little.

"He's—_what_? Why in the _hell_ isn't he coming?"

I shrugged. "He says he's busy."

"Busy, my ass. It's the last day before Christmas holidays, _what could he be busy with_?"

I shrugged, not comfortable with this subject.

She scrutinized me.

"V, you have been thinking about Harry's told you about Draco, haven't you?"

I shrugged again.

"Because it _makes sense_," she urged. "Just think about it."

_It doesn't make sense_, I told myself firmly. _There's just no way_.

"You're in denial," persisted Ashley. "I can see it on your face. V, I'm not saying Draco _is _a Death Eater, I'm just saying that it's a very likely possibility. And I'm not saying that I want him to be a Death Eater, either. I'm just considering all the possibilities, you see."

"How can he be a Death Eater?" I asked quietly. "He just—he can't be."

"Consider all the possibilities," Ashley repeated.

"But that's not even a possibility," I argued. "He can't be. He's Draco Malfoy, the stupid, obnoxious prat that you love to hate, not a Death Eater."

It sounded pathetic even in my own ears. But before I could say anything else, Blaise had come up, tugging at the hem of his emerald green dress robes.

"My mom bought this for me," he said sullenly. "I look ridiculous."

"Blaise," said Ashley seriously, "I totally agree with you."

He looked even more depressed.

Blaise held the door to Slughorn's 'office' for Ashley, like a gentleman. Ashley smiled at him and walked in. I followed her, and was hit in the face by the door swinging close. Blaise quickly opened it again, muttering apologies and pleading with me not to tell Draco.

"He's going to kill me," he begged.

I assured him that no, I was not going to tell Draco and no, I wasn't mad at him, and yes, I was fine. I walked into the lavishly decorated room which I swear Slughorn has magically enlarged. Ashley and Blaise had left to go who-knows-where in this cluttered room, leaving me standing by myself. I craned my neck, looking for a familiar face. Hermione was being attacked under the mistletoe by Cormac McLaggen. I grimaced sympathetically and started over to her, but spied Luna Lovegood and Harry talking to Professor Trelawney and changed direction.

"Hey Harry," I said as I reached them.

"Vanessa," he said in relief.

"...and the Blibbering Humdinger," Luna was saying.

"Harry Potter!" said Professor Trelawney, as if noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, hello," said Harry unenthusiastically.

"My dear boy! The rumors! The stories! 'The Chosen One'! Of course, I have known for a very long time..."

I repressed a snort with great difficulty and lost track of the conversation for a moment. When I had returned to my senses, Slughorn was also standing there, looking rather drunk.

"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" Slughorn said loudly, and to my amazement, he threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them. "Stop skulking around and join the party, Severus! I was just talking of the exceptional magical ability that I had witnessed Harry perform these last few days. Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"

As Snape glared down at him, Harry shrank back a little. Whatever he might say, I still think that Harry was just the tiniest bit afraid of Severus Snape.

"Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach this Potter anything at all," Then, he gestured at me. "This Potter, on the other hand, shows natural talent in—"

"Well, then, it's natural ability!" shouted Slughorn, completely oblivious to Snape's reference to _my_ natural ability. "Remind me what you had wanted to do, Harry."

"I wanted to be an Auror," he said, staring at Snape defiantly.

"And a great one you'll make too!" boomed Slughorn.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," said Luna unexpectedly. We all turned to look at her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

Harry snorted up half his glass of mead as he began to laugh. I watched in disgust as the liquid oozed from his nostrils.

"Harry, that's just—"

Harry stopped laughing suddenly, and looked gleeful. I followed his gaze, and felt surprise on my face: Draco was being dragged by the ear toward us by Filch.

"Draco—"

""Slughorn, sir," wheezed old Filch, his jowls aquiver, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco pulled himself free, determinedly not looking at me.

"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gate-crash, happy?"

I gaped at him, wondering why he didn't just tell Filch I had invited him to come with me.

"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement completely at odds with the absolute joy on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all r ight, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, almost knocking me unconscious as he waved his enormous hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

Something was tugging on the hem of my dress robes. I looked down. Sebastian was purring at me, a dead mouse in his mouth. When he was sure I was looking, he darted away. I stared after him. There is definitely something wrong with that cat. Unless it was something definitely right. I took off after him.

"Sebastian!" I called, peering around people's legs for the small tabby. "Sebastian, you godforsaken cat, where are you? Why did you come here if you were just going to run away, anyway? Sebastian!"

But he was nowhere to be seen. I sighed, defeated and returned to where Luna was talking about the Rotfang Conspiracy to a sincerely interested Professor Trelawney.

"Have you seen Harry?" I asked.

"...yes, they use this curse—Oh hello, Vanessa. He went to the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" I said blankly. "Oh okay... what about Draco?"

"Professor Snape wanted to have a word with him."

"Oh... well all right, then."

Harry came back a few minutes later, looking distressed. I greeted him happily, relieved that I didn't have to wander aimlessly around the classroom and make small talk with people I didn't know.

"Vanessa," he said urgently.

"What's wrong?"

"Malfoy—and Snape—" He swayed on his feet, but persisted nonetheless. Sweat beaded his forehead and his skin was chalky. "The Unbreakable Vow—" he murmured, then collapsed on the floor, twitching and yelling.

A/N:

The identity poem isn't mine. It belongs to **Julio Noboa Polanca. **Has anyone seen it before? I just felt like adding it in, because I saw it in school and I totally loved it (: I don't know if it fits into the story or not, but I just wanted to share (: there was this other thing about minority groups in America that I LOVED LOVED LOVED. But since Vanessa's not part of any minority group, I didn't think it would be appropriate. But I don't know. I'm Asian American, so yeah I can relate to those. AND FYI, I WAS BORN HERE IN MONTERRY PARK, CALIFORNIA AND I CAN'T SPEAK CHINESE FOR SHIT, SO DON'T EVEN ASK. (sorry, I get touchy about this. I don't like being asian. Well, I do in California, because Asians aren't exactly minority in California... but in the rest of the U.S... That's why I don't go on vacation without my ipod and some big sunglasses.). If you guys wanna see the poem though, I'm going to put it on my profile.

**Callmeweird**—I have one thing to say: Thanky Poo? LOLOL

Ugh, I can't find the review right now, but to whoever said that Durmstrang is boys only... I'm _pretty sure_ it's not boys only. In the movie, Beauxbatons was girls only and Durmstrang was boys only, but I remember in the book, there was a Beauxbaton boy, so there are probably Durmstrang girls too. I'm not sure though. Let me look it up. HAHA, yes found it: "In the film, it appears that Durmstrang is an all-boy school, although this is not so in the book." (HarryPotterWiki).

There were a lot of reviews for the last chapter and I was SO SO SO SO SO happy (: but I'm not going to reply to all of them, because as you know (or maybe you don't), I am extremely, extremely lazy. But still, I loved all of your reviews and thanks to those that said it's getting better (: All the plot twists were sort of spur-of-the –moment, but I know the perfect way to make 'em fit in (: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU again for the reviews (: you will all get some baked goodies once I figure out how to turn on my oven (: (You there, laughing in the corner, SHUT UP. Turning on an oven is not as easy as you think)

REVIEW because they make me happy (: and everyone likes happy (:

OH, **girl from Holland! **Your English isn't that bad. And your grammar isn't too bad, either (: I love the nose thing at the end; it was totally an LOL moment for me (:


	12. the Merry Malfoys

**`**Note: I am not gonna recap the last cliffie, so if you guys forgot what happened, click the handy-dandy arrow up there and check. ****

**A/N: Most of this chapter is in Draco POV. i don't know why, so don't ask. I just think he's more interesting to write (: Oh, and also I switched the tenses from past to present about halfway through the chapter. I don't know why about that either. I kinda just wanted to try it. I don't really like it, so it'll go back to normal next chapter. You guys know what I'm talking about, right? Like, from "Draco grinned." to "Draco grins." yeah? **

Chapter 12—Merry Malfoys

"Harry?" I cried, alarmed.

He continued to twitch on the floor. I half expected him to begin foaming at the mouth, or something. He didn't though, to my slight disappointment.

People were starting to crowd around us now.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Do you think he'll be all right?"

Slughorn pushed past the onlookers, booming,

"What's all the commotion—" he cut off, the glass of mead slipping from his fat fingers and crashing to the floor. "Harry! My dear, dear boy!"

He shoved me aside and knelt by my brother.

"Tragic!" Trelawney was shouting over the chaos in the room. "I have foreseen this! But, of course, I wished that I had been horribly mistaken. Alas—"

"V!"

Blaise and Ashley scrambled over to me, looking pale and worried.

"What's happening to him?" asked Ashley anxiously. "What's wrong?"

Blaise just stared, dumbstruck as Harry writhed on the floor despite Slughorn's many attempts to rouse him.

"He's—he's having some sort of fit, or something," I said hesitantly.

Some people were crying. Others were laughing. I felt a surge of anger and before I realized what I was doing, I was kneeling on the ground beside Harry.

"Harry. _Harry!_ God damn this, _snap out of it!_"

And I slapped him across the face. Just like that, Harry's eyes opened and swiveled instinctively over to their twin pair.

Several girls were crying in relief.

"All she did was slap him," said Blaise in a carrying whisper. "I could've done that."

But Harry neither heard nor saw him, as he only had eyes for me.

"Get McGonagall," he said weakly. "Mr. Weasley's been attacked."

"Attacked?" I repeated. "Harry, what do you—"

"What does it matter what I mean, Vanessa?" he snapped, attempting to sit up. "What matters is this: If we don't get someone to him, Arthur Weasley is _going to die_."

I looked around; no one else had seemed to have heard. They were all exclaiming joyously what a miracle that had been.

I stood up, intending on probing the entire castle for the Gryffindor Head, but there was no need. Barely a second had passed, and McGonagall was parting the crowd, looking grim. And at her heels, looking fantastically smug, was Sebastian, his amber eyes glittering in my direction.

"Professor McGonagall," said Harry, "Mr. Weasley—he's been attacked!"

"Attacked?" she said sharply. "What do you mean attacked?"

I scooped Sebastian up, who was purring contentedly in my arms, and tried to conceal a stab of annoyance. McGonagall had pretty much repeated what I had said, and Harry had not snapped at _her_.

"Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is..." Harry trailed off, looking anxious.

Professor McGonagall looked horrified.

"I'm not lying, and I'm not mad!" Harry cried angrily. "I tell you, I saw it happen!"

"I believe you, Potter," said McGonagall curtly. "We're going to see the headmaster."

Ginny and Hermione rushed over to help Harry to his feet, and as McGonagall passed, she muttered to me,

"That's an awful smart cat you've got there, Miss Potter. I suggest you watch out for him, or he's going to have to pass your O.W.L exams for you."

I stared after her, stunned, and lifted Sebastian so that his face was level with mine.

"You're smart?" I asked him incredulously.

I could've sworn he smirked at me.

We—that is, me, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny—were huddled in Professor Dumbledore's office, glaring at Umbridge with pure loathing. She had burst into the room just before we had been able to take the Portkey, and demanded to know why were leaving when term had not yet ended.

"Well you see, Dolores," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely up at Umbridge after hastily stuffing the Portkey under his desk. "Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured, and we are sending his children to St. Mungo's to see him."

"It's last day of term," said Umbridge in a falsely sweet tone. "Surely they can at least wait until morning."

"I'm afraid they can't, Dolores," said Dumbledore grimly.

"Well, perhaps you would like to tell me what has 'gravely injured' Arthur Weasley in the first place, Professor?"

"We don't know," said Harry, lying outright.

"Really?" said Umbridge, clearly not believing a word. "Even if that _is_ the case, which I highly doubt, those two," she gestured at me and Harry, "are not family. And the rules _clearly_ state that only family—"

"Well, they're as good as family!" said Fred and George simultaneously, still glaring at Umbridge.

"Yes, but I'm afraid 'as good as' isn't good enough for neither the Ministry of Magic, nor the Minister himself."

Harry looked positively outraged.

"_look_," he said furiously, "Mr. Weasley could be dying as we speak, and you're telling us that _we're not allowed to go_?"

"Oh, they are," said Umbridge sweetly, nodding at the Weasley's, "but I am terribly sorry to say that you and Vanessa will not be permitted to leave, as Arthur Weasley is no blood relative of yours."

_Terribly sorry, are you_, I thought bitterly._ The hell you are. _

Just then, I saw Fred and George exchange a covert look. Both of their wands slipped out of their sleeves. And at the same time, they yelled,

"_Stupefy!_"

Two jets of red light hit Umbridge squarely in the face, and she dropped like a stone. The twins approached her unconscious figure, a look of mild interest on their faces.

"I reckon it was my spell that did it," said George.

"No, it wasn't you prat," said Fred. "My spell was cast _at least _a quarter of a second before yours."

"Excellent spellwork, either way," said Dumbledore calmly, examining the toad-like woman. "Still, it would cause a lot of unwanted trouble if she were to remember this little—er—incident. _Obliviate_."

Dolores Umbridge's eyes became unfocused, and Dumbledore, apparently satisfied, retrieved the lamp from under his desk.

"_Portus_," he murmured, and the lamp began to glow a bright blue.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Fred and George, and I reached out to hold at least one part of the glowing Portkey.

"On the count of three then," said Dumbledore, "One...two..."

The door burst open, causing me to jump and look back. My finger slipped.

Harry called out, "Ness—"

There was a flash of brightest blue, and they were gone.

I cursed loudly.

"Language," said Dumbledore mildly. Then, he turned to the newcomer that had interrupted us. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy." I whipped around. "Was there something you wanted?"

Draco's expression was confused. He looked from me, to Dumbledore, to the spot where five people had just disappeared, and to Umbridge, who was still lying unconscious on the floor. "Nothing, I—I just wondered where Vanessa had gone and—Professor, _what happened_?"

"Oh nothing that would interest you too much, Draco," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "I was just teaching Vanessa how to Stun when Professor Umbridge came in at precisely the wrong moment."

"You were teaching her how to stun," repeated Draco in disbelief, "at one 'o clock in the morning?"

"Well, seeing as neither of us could sleep..."

I didn't understand why Dumbledore, who had been so reluctant to deceive Umbridge could lie to Draco without a mere flinch.

"It's all right, Professor," I told Dumbledore, "I'll tell him. I trust him."

Professor Dumbledore bowed his head sincerely. "Very well then, Vanessa."

"So what really happened in there?" asked Draco as soon as we were out in the corridor. "And what's this I've been hearing about Potter having a mental breakdown. I'm not surprised, I mean, it was only a matter of time—"

"Hardy-har-har," I said sarcastically. "He wasn't exactly having a mental breakdown. He just saw Mr. Weasley being attacked by a giant snake, so naturally they decided to leave early and head out to St. Mungo's."

"He saw Arthur Weasley being attacked by a giant snake," said Draco incredulously.

"Yes, and will you stop repeating everything I say?"

"All right, all right. Anyway, Potter saw the attack _during _Slughorn's party, surrounded by dozens of mingling students, and you still say he's not mad?"

"I don't think he's mad," I said firmly. Then said to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, "Pureblood."

The portrait swung open, and we stepped inside.

"Well, that's because you're his sister, aren't you? And you're not allowed to think your brother is mad," Draco said reasonably. "Personally—"

"George reckons Fred is mad," I pointed out. "And they're twins too."

"All right," amended Draco, "but they're both freaks, you've got to admit."

I rolled my eyes. "So have you packed yet?"

"In all the excitement," Draco snorted, "not likely, V."

"But you're leaving tomorrow morning," I told him, "and it's nearly 2 in the morning. Look, I'll help you pack—"

"There's no need, V," said Draco lazily. "I'll write to Mum tomorrow and tell her I'm staying at Hogwarts over the holiday."

"But...why?" I asked blankly. "Ashley and Blaise are leaving tomorrow—"

"Yeah, but unfortunately, _someone_," he fixed an amused eye on me, "missed their Portkey. Not to mention, Mother is hosting another Christmas party this year and to be honest, I'd much rather spend the holiday with you than making small talk with a bunch of bigheaded Ministry prats."

"Really?" I said, lying back on the couch. "I want to go to your mum's Christmas party. How come I was never invited?"

Draco laughed. "Because I actually like you."

After living with Harry and Dudley all my life, pouting is pretty much second nature. Sure, I've been trying to refrain from using the childish gesture, but times like these bring out the worst in me. I pouted full out.

"But I want to go to a party!" I whined.

Shock flashed through his features, and he was rendered momentarily speechless.

"I—er-what—" he stammered.

It took all the willpower I had to keep myself from smirking. Draco's one big disadvantage was that he has no siblings and is therefore incredibly vulnerable to the tricks those like Ginny are normally immune.

I blinked innocently, and Draco's cheeks immediately flamed a burning red. He turned away from me, embarrassed.

"Stop that," he mumbled.

I laughed and without thinking, reached for his left hand.

His response was instantaneous; he jerked away, a hint of panic on his face. Just like that, the happy bubble that had protected us from reality broke. For a moment, I considered jerking up his sleeve and seeing for myself whether or not the mark of a certain evil mastermind was branded into his arm. But then I realized that I honestly didn't want to know.

I kept my face perfectly blank as I said, "I should go to bed."

Draco nodded, his face tight.

"I'll see you in the morning, then?" he asked. A question, not a statement.

"Yeah, I guess you will."

* * *

**Draco POV**

I had to get Ashley to shake Vanessa awake the next morning. It was nearly 10 o' clock, and the train leaves at 11. She came up the stairs to the common room and smiled when she saw me. I smiled back, and just like that we both knew that last night had been forgiven—or at least forgotten. I quickly explained to her that my parents had written to me late last night asking if I could _please, please_ invite her over for the holidays. She was ecstatic.

Here's what I didn't tell her: I didn't tell her that to say that my parents are overjoyed at the prospect of her staying with us over the holidays is the understatement of the century. I didn't tell her that my parents wanted her to prove to Nott—a family friend who happened to be father of Theodore Nott—that they were perfectly capable of doing the Dark Lord's bidding, thank you very much.

At the manor, Father pulls her into a hug. Vanessa seems surprised, but pleased. I watch as Mother fusses over her and calls for Dotty to prepare a meal for her. Father introduces Nott, who is leering at her in an unpleasant way.

"So you're Vanessa Potter," he says, looking her over as if she were a particularly juicy fruit, ripe for his picking.

Vanessa notices, and glances in my direction. But she says politely, "How do you do, Mr. Nott?"

"Yes well," says Father, "Vanessa probably needs a chance to settle in. We have laid out a bedroom for you. It's—well, you know which it is. The one adjacent to Draco's. The one you always stay in."

Vanessa smiles and tows her trunk out of the sitting room. I followed her, planning to help her up the stairs—and to get away from Nott.

But Father calls me back, saying that there is something we need to discuss.

"Ooh, sounds serious," says Vanessa teasingly. "What did you do this time, break your Mum's favorite vase?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," I say in a tone of mock seriousness. "I was five, and have never been so harshly punished. At least—I don't think I have. I can't remember the details, you see. Extensive blows to the head, according to the medical report at St. Mungo's."

She snorted. "You're a lying prat, Draco Malfoy."

_I know_.

I head back into the sitting room, where the three of them are waiting.

"You actually did it," says Nott in disbelief. "I never would have thought any of you capable of it, but you actually did it. How in the world did you trick Potter into coming _here_ of all places?"

I exchange a look with my parents. None of us say anything.

"What did you plan on doing with her, anyway?" asks Nott.

"We don't know," my father says in clipped tones.

"Don't know?" chortles Nott. "But surely—"

"Surely it is none of your business what we do with the girl," Mother cuts in. "It is her brother the Dark Lord wants."

"Of course, Narcissa," says Nott, "but the girl will be perfect bait, don't you think? I don't understand why some clever folks like you haven't figured that out yet."

The girl. Vanessa Potter, who is terrified of a simple honeybee, whose hair smells like both summer and spring, had been reduced to 'the girl'.

"If I were you, Draco," Nott continues, "I'd end all the pretenses right here and now. Get up there and Stun her, then hold her get 'hold of her brother and demand the exchange. In fact, I'd actually help you. So how about it—"

I wasn't consciously aware of standing up. All I know is that one second I was sitting, about to explode, and then I was standing, wand out and pointed directly at Nott's nose.

"Draco!" Mother says sharply.

I ignore her.

"You won't hurt her." I say, my voice trembling. "You won't."

"What Draco means," Father says quickly, "is that he doesn't want you to get involved. He says he's perfectly capable of securing Potter on his own."

I ignore him as well.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nott snarls. "You little brat, I—"

There is a bang, and Nott crashes headfirst into the wall. He slumps down, unconscious. I look at my wand, confused; I hadn't cast that spell. There were several thuds, the sound of someone running down the stairs. I look up, my mother is white and trembling, her wand still extended. She hears the sounds as well and lowers her wand as Vanessa appears in the doorway, looking panicked.

"What happened?" she pants.

Her gaze travels from my father, who is still seated in his armchair, to me and my mother, and then to Nott, knocked out cold.

"What happened to him?" she asks.

"He has disrespected us," says my Father, rising. "We will not be insulted that way."

"In other words," I say, half-smiling, "he pissed us off."

She stared.

"Dotty!" Mother calls. With a crack, the house-elf appears, bowing. "Please escort Mr. Nott out."

"Yes, Masters and Mistresses!" squeaks Dotty.

She totters over to where Nott lies, and with another crack, they disappear.

* * *

We spend most of the next day preparing for the party. Mother busies herself in the kitchen with Dotty. Father goes out and buys _another_ set of dress robes. Vanessa and I are forced into dressy clothes and grumble as Mother fusses over the state of our hair. By the time the sun goes down and the first guests start arriving, we at least look 'somewhat presentable'. Vanessa was bullied into wearing one of my mother's favorite, most expensive dress and wearing so much makeup that when I touch her face, the powder comes off on my fingers.

"I look like a clown," she complains as we each lead a couple into the ball room.

I make a noncommittal sound, and she shoots me a dirty look. I can't help it; she really does look like a clown.

My face goes blank as my father greets her and introduces her to Avery, Crabbe and Goyle Sr., who laugh unpleasantly when they think she isn't looking. Theodore Nott is also present at the party, along with Crabbe and Goyle. Vanessa looks uncomfortable when they come up to us and she excuses herself and heads to the drink table.

"You know," says Nott as soon as she's out of earshot, "all these years, Draco, I thought that you had actually fallen for the Potter girl. But this was your plan all along, wasn't it? Man, why didn't I think of that?"

I don't answer, craning my neck. I caught a glimpse of the lilac dress my mother had forced Vanessa into and started toward her without so much as a goodbye to my fellow Slytherin.

She is talking to Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and judging by the look on her face, she was pissed. For most guys, changing the subject when they see a girl is pissed is part of our survival instinct, but Fudge seemed to lack this sixth sense, because he kept right on talking. I debate on whether or not I should keep my distance. A pissed Vanessa is truly a sight to behold.

Vanessa's hand twitches toward her wand, and I stepped in, not wanting her to end up in Azkaban.

"Hello Minister," I say in the courteous voice that Mother has taught me to speak in since I was three. "Is there a problem?"

Fudge, who's face had been contorted into a sick sort of triumph, turns to me. His expression instantly clears.

"How do you do, young Mr. Malfoy?" he asks, grasping my hand.

"Not so good, actually," I say grimly. "You see, Minister, this is my favorite song and I was hoping to dance with this young lady right here."

I gesture at Vanessa, who shoots daggers at me. I suppress a grin.

"This one?" repeats Fudge, looking confused. "But Mr. Malfoy, surely you know who this is."

"Yeah, actually I do," I say rather coolly.

I offer my arm to Vanessa, who stares at it as if she doesn't know what to do with it. I sighed, and looped her arm through mine. Honestly, this girl has never learned proper etiquette.

"What are you doing?" she hisses as I lead her to the dance floor.

"Dancing," I say innocently.

"But I can't dance!"

"Well there's a shocker."

"Draco," she says urgently, "I'm serious."

"So am I," I say, placing my hands on her waist.

Her hands remain stiffly at her side.

I sigh again. "Don't be difficult, V."

"I'm not dancing," she says stubbornly.

"You have to. This is a party, V. People are staring."

She looks around, and flinches away from the pairs of staring eyes. She twines herself around my neck, stretching upward so that her lips brushed against my ear as I began to lead her.

"Draco Malfoy, I'm going to kill you when this party is over," she breathes.

I smirk and lift her up into the air. She gives a little squeak of fright.

"Don't do that!" she whispers furiously.

When the song ends, Vanessa's face is beet red and she stares at the ground, looking mortified.

"There," I say soothingly, taking her hand and leading her out of the main crowd, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

She glares at me.

We walk out into the garden, still silent. We pass by the fountain. Past one... two... three peacocks. Past the statue of my great grandfather. Past my mother's favorite hydrangea bush.

Finally, she speaks. "I'm never going to forgive you, you know."

I roll my eyes. "V, look me in the eyes and tell me that you didn't enjoy dancing with me."

She looks me squarely in the eyes. And looks away.

I snicker.

"Shut up," she mutters.

* * *

The sun is coming up, and Vanessa—whose hair is still tangled and wet from the time I pushed her into the fountain—is still talking.

"..and then both Dudley and Harry pissed their pants, but Uncle Vernon only got mad at Harry, as usual. I think I got punished too, which really wasn't fair because _I _wasn't the one that pissed and made his company car reek of urine for weeks. But nah, I got locked in my room along with Harry for 2 weeks, anyway—"

She breaks off and glances at the window, looking confused. There is a snowy white owl, clutching a letter, and tapping at the glass.

"Oy!" I cry, springing up and opening the window. The bird flutters in. "Damn thing could've broken the window."

Vanessa doesn't hear me.

"Hey Hedwig," she croons, stroking the owl's head, "got something for me, you pretty girl? Oh, letter from Harry? I would say that's nice, but I don't like to lie. You're such a good girl, Hedwig."

Sebastian hisses angrily.

I take the letter from the bird, which snaps and nips at my finger.

"Ouch!" I mutter, glaring at the owl. "Stupid little pest."

I open the letter while Vanessa is still obsessing over the damn bird.

_Dear Vanessa, _

_Sorry you missed your Portkey. Mr. Weasley is fine; he just got home today. Hey, where are you at, anyway? Fred and George reckon you're at that prat, Malfoy's house, but I told them that you're probably still at Hogwarts. Well, if you are Hogwarts, meet us at Hogsmeade tomorrow. Snuffles says that there's no Christmas without you. If you're at Malfoy's... well, send Hedwig back and we'll meet you at Diagon Alley tomorrow. By the way, there's something I need to tell you. I would tell you here, but if this owl gets intercepted... Well anyway, it's about Malfoy, so keep that in mind. _

_Love, Harry_

"I am not a prat!" I say without thinking.

Vanessa looks up, sees the letter in my hand, and jerks it away. She scans the short letter, and emerges within a few seconds, chewing her lip.

"Can I borrow a quill, Draco?" she asks, seemingly distracted.

"You're not leaving, are you?" I ask, consenting to hand her one of my quills. "V, you just got here."

She ignores me, taking the quill and scribbles two words onto the parchment.

_FUCK YOU_.

I grin.

Vanessa taps her chin, deliberating. Then adds at the bottom of the page,

_PS: Tell the twins that they were right. And give Snuffles a Happy Christmas from me. If you see Percy, slap him and tell him he's a git. Love you. _

_PPS: Leave Draco alone. _

She seals it and sends it off with Potter's owl.

**A/N: WHO'S READY FOR MY EXCUSE THIS WEEK?!?!? okay, i last updated on... wednesday, i think. Or maybe it was Tuesday. But anyway, I had an early-out day on Thursday and you'd think I'd devote it to my fic, right? WRONG! I watched My Sister's Keeper. (: Friday: Piano. Nuff said. Saturday: My brother's birthday party. Pain in the ass, but necassary. Sunday: SHOPPING WITH ASH (: and before you critisize me by saying I should've put my fic first... This shopping trip was IMPORTANT!!! IT WAS INEVITABLE!!! I HAVE A PARTY TO GO TO THIS FRIDAY!!!! (that's not a good thing. i hate fancy schmancy parties where you have to get all dressy-ied up.) **

**anyway, i wanted to make this chapter all of the Christmas holiday, but i found out i have too many things to say. I left out some stuff, too. UGGGH. I'm thinking about doing another Naruto fic. But it's not really romance, it's more of a family/friendship thing with a ton of OCs. WEREWOLVES, no less (; I would make it a Harry Potter fic, but I don't like the werewolves in HP. I don't have anything against Lupin; it's just that all the werewolves in HP (besides Lupin) (like Fenrir Greyback) are bloodthirsty dickheads. (never a good combination). And I don't like the whole _no choice at the full moon _kinda thing. My werewolves are more like Twilight's: SHAPESHIFTERS. But I hate how they're practically invincible. I mean, if you can't kill a werewolf with goddamn silver bullets (I mean, those are EXPENSIVE.), what _can_ you kill them with? So I guess it's kind of a mix of HP, MI, and Twilight's werewolves. (Mortal Intruments, ever heard of it? it's AWESOME. Second only to HP.) Um, so I guess that's why it's in Naruto, because Naruto has no werewolves, and plus my OCs would love the whole Japanese theme. Alright, bye. **

**REVIEW because SEBASTIAN says so ! Tell me whatcha guys think about the new MAYBE fic. There's not gonna be a whole lotta Naruto, so if you guys don't like the whole anime thing, it's cool. REVIEW REVIEW because I have a new friend who collects REVOLVERS (: (you know, the gun?) REVEIW REVIEW, because he said i could BORROW IT (: **


	13. Christmas Day

**A/N: Sorry 'bout the wait! I had stuff going on. But I'm sure you guys wanna read the story first, so yeah!**

**Disclaimer: EHHHH. **

Chapter 13—Christmas Day

That morning, before breakfast, Draco and I were by the fountain again. This time, I watched him carefully. The fact that he had pushed me into the very same fountain we were standing by made me slightly wary.

Suddenly, he turned to me. I flinched, expected him to shove me into the stream of water again. He didn't seem to notice.

"V, I've been thinking."

I resisted the urge to insult his mental capabilities.

"Remember the box I gave you at the beginning of term?"

I think. No, I do not remember aforementioned box. I shake my head.

"Did you ever open it?" he asked, ignoring my head shake.

Well seeing as I don't even remember such a box... Oh well, I'll let him continue with his monologue.

"Well see, it had this necklace in it, and—"

There was a loud crack! and Draco cut off, looking around for the source. Hands clamped around my upper arms, and I cried out.

"Hey!" yelled Draco furiously. "What do you two think you're doing here?"

"Hi Nessie," said two familiar voices in unison.

"Fred? George? Let me go! What the fuck—"

Fred grunted as one of my flailing limbs hit him.

"Jeez, hold still," he muttered. "We're trying to do you a favor."

"FAVOR!" I screamed, still struggling and sounding half hysterical. "Are you two really that stupid? Does this _look _like you're doing me a favor?!"

Draco had his wand out, pointed directly behind me at Fred, but his lips were pressed together, afraid to cast a curse in case it hit me.

"See you later, Malfoy," said Fred.

"Or not," said George.

And the pulled me into the darkness.

Once the pressure disappeared, I twisted in George's grip and slapped him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

"You. Bloody. _Dickheads!_" I yelled. "If I had my wand right now, you'd both be _dead_! What the hell were you thinking? All my stuff's still at Draco's!"

"Oy!" said Fred. "Watch who you're calling a dickhead! Some of us happen to be very sensitive."

"Yeah, like I give a shit. Take me back! Take me back _now_!"

"Did you actually just stamp your foot, Ness?" asked George. "I thought girls only did that in movies."

"No George," said Fred, "we saw that one Muggle girl down at the village who was throwing a tantrum and stomping her foot, remember?"

I glared at them, and raised my voice. "TAKE ME BACK, GODDAMMIT!"

There was the sound of a door slamming, cries of "_Nessie!_" and "_She's here!_", and I found myself being lifted off the ground. Someone ruffled my hair. Fred and George were looking extremely pleased with themselves.

Bill put me down, grinning. "It's been too long, Vanessa."

"Yeah," I said, my anger at the twins melting away at the sight of all the familiar faces.

Sirius parted the crowd, a smile gracing his face and making him look twenty years younger.

"Is that my goddaughter?" he asked, although he knew full well it was me. He pulled me into a tight hug. "I swear you've grown since the last time I saw you."

"That's because you still imagine her as the little girl she once was," said Ron.

I glare at him.

"But don't worry about it, Sirius," said George. "Fred and I still think of her as an ickle baby, too. Imagine our surprise when, just the other night, we found her and Malfoy snogging in an upstairs corridor."

"_What_?" said Harry, sounding furious. Sirius looked amused.

"Oh loosen up, Harry," said Ginny, before smiling at me. "Vanessa's a big girl. She can kiss whoever she likes."

"Big girl, huh?" said Bill, looking entertained.

"Oh yeah, you're one to talk, Ginny," said Ron, turning on her. "Snogging Dean Thomas every other night, aren't you?"

"Shut it, Ron," said Ginny with a brave attempt at flippancy, though her ears were red.

* * *

I tried locking myself in my room, which doesn't really work because I still share with Ginny. Five minutes into my depressed silence, she began pounding on the door, shouting at me and trying to get in.

Manfried came with a letter from Draco, explaining that he's going to kill the Weasley twins next time he sees them and that he'll bring my stuff to King's Cross when the holiday is over.

At dinner, I studiously ignored Fred and George's many attempts to make me laugh. They need to learn that forgiveness and amusement are two different things. Harry sends me covert looks, clearly trying to measure whether or not I still had my virginity (which I _do_, thanks). Sirius stood, pushing his plate away and gestured for me to follow him. I looked gloomily down at my supper but complied.  
Out in the hall, Sirius thrust a piece of parchment into my hands. I unfolded it, and looked up at my godfather, grinning sheepishly.

"Lucky I intercepted that owl before it reached your brother," said Sirius casually. His eyes assured me that he wasn't mad at me. "He would've went into a temper, and then where would we be? This house would probably be demolished, and Kreacher—Say, do you know where Kreacher is?"

I shook my head, still embarrassed that Sirius had found my letter.

There was a moment of silence. Then,

"Vanessa, Harry told me something, and it's been bothering me..."

I tensed. "Let me guess. Draco?"

He nodded. "Harry seems to be under the impression that your Draco's a Death Eater."

I didn't answer for a long moment, stuck on the way he said '_your Draco_'.

"Vanessa?" he said, waving a hand in front of my face.

I snapped out of it. "Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, he's been saying that all year."

"But you don't think so," he stated.

"Nope."

"You've got full confidence in him."

"Yep."

"No doubt in your mind whatsoever?"

I hesitated. _Shit, he knows_.

"Well, maybe just a teensy bit of doubt," I said timidly.

He smiled sympathetically. "I never would've guessed that Peter would've betrayed us, you know. We were always united, always a team, always together... That little rat."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Why, is it working?"

"Not really."

"Okay—er—new plan of action. Don't blame yourself."

I stared at him. "You're not helping."

"I'm trying."

"Not enough."

"That's because I am a man," Sirius said with dignity. "This girly drama stuff was Lily's area of expertise."

I laughed. "I wish Mum was here."

"Yeah," he said softly. "We all do."

* * *

I awoke on Christmas morning to several shrill cries of "_Presents!_"

I blinked sleepily, and squealed in delight. Lying at the foot of my bed was an enormous amount of presents. Nothing compared to the size of Ginny's, of course, but still, I'd wager that it's a bigger pile than Harry's.

Ginny had delved headfirst into her pile; I could hear wrapping paper being torn from within the mountain. I eyed my stack apprehensively, and plucked off the smallest package.

It was from the Dursley's. They had given me a used wad of tissue paper.

Shuddering, I dropped it onto the floor, and picked up the next parcel.

In the end, I had received: A Weasley sweater; a necklace enchanted to screech, "DRACO MALFOY, YOU SLIMY GIT!" every couple of seconds—most likely from Fred and George; Ron had gotten me a hairbrush that came with a note, explaining that now I couldn't complain about him mussing up my hair; Harry had gotten me a big bag of Fizzing Whizbees; Hermione—I suppressed a groan—had gotten me a Transfiguration textbook; Ginny had made me a scrapbook that I tucked carefully into my trunk; and Bill had gotten me a Potions kit.

I had saved the gifts labeled from Blaise, Ashley, and Draco for last. With a feeling of mounting excitement, I lifted Blaise's heavy, rectangular parcel and weighed it in my hand. I wondered what it was.

I tore open the wrapping paper, and groaned. It was another Transfiguration textbook. A note fluttered to the ground.

_Dear Vanessa, _

_You're probably wondering why I had gotten you such an Ashley-worthy gift. But there's a perfectly logical explanation as to why I chose to buy you a Transfiguration textbook rather than the Honeyduke's gift basket you've been begging me for, and the reason is this: Ashley. She's probably going to get me a textbook, too. And so I thought, Who should be better to suffer with me than the Other Potter, after all? So yeah, that's basically it. And plus, your Transfiguration grade really is dismal at this present moment, so I figured you might appreciate some help. After the holidays, I expect to be greeted with much love and thanks. _

_Happy Christmas,_

_Blaise Zabini_

_PS: don't try to be clever by using your newfound knowledge of Transfiguration and turning me into a toad. I do not appreciate irony. _

Ashley had given me a charm bracelet that would have been very pretty if only it doesn't sing _God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs_ every time I jostled it the slightest bit. I set it on the bedside table, next to Fred and George's similar gift. Along with it came a small note:

_Hope my present will annoy you to death in my absence!_

_Lots of love, _

_Ashley Turner_

Last, but definitely not least, I picked up the parcel labeled _Draco_. For such a large package, it was strangely light. I prayed it wasn't another prank gift. I peeled off the wrapping paper.

It was a box; a beautiful, carved, wooden...strangely familiar box. There was a note spellotaped to the lid.

_This box_.

This triggered a memory. Manfried at the breakfast table, and the box, and the... oh, I must've forgotten about it in all the first-day excitement. Whoops.

I lifted the cover and gently the cover and gently took out the marvel that lay within. I pinched the chain between my fingers and held it up to my face.

It. Was. Fucking. Beautiful.

And very possibly the mostly expensive thing I have ever touched in my life.

It was a necklace. Hanging from the _diamond-encrusted _chain were 2 silver serpents entwined at the end and tail to form something of a heart. Between them lay an enormous honker of an emerald, perfectly cut into the shape of a heart.

I smiled as I clasped it around my neck. Emerald and silver, the Slytherin colors; I bet Harry would love that.

* * *

I was right. I had just descended the staircase, my necklace bouncing, when Harry and Ron's gawking faces came into view.

I grinned. "Hey guys."

Harry pointed. "What the hell is that?"

"Is that a _real _emerald?" Ron asked weakly. "Do you know how much that would cost?"

"Um, well—"

"Nessie, can I talk to you?" asked Harry abruptly.

"Give her a break, Harry," said Ron. When Harry turned away, I saw Ron mouth _ten thousand Galleons._

_Damn, that's a lot of money. _

But I nodded at Harry and consented to follow him.

He led me up four slights of stairs and into an empty room. That wasn't creepy at all. So he took a deep breath, and explained everything he heard—eavesdropped—between Snape and Draco at Slughorn's party.

"Proof," he finished triumphantly.

"I don't know, Harry," I said slowly. "It's still a little iffy on the details."

He gaped at me. "Iffy on the details?" he repeated in disbelief. "Vanessa, I gave you solid evidence then and you flat out denied it. What's going on with you, Vanessa? Why do you keep defending him?"

"Harry, I'm just saying that we shouldn't be too quick to accuse anyone in this case. I mean, what if you misunderstood it all?"

"Do you hear yourself, Vanessa? You're completely submerged in the Lake of Denial. He's got complete control over you. It's pathetic."

I winced. Then, annoyed at myself for my moment of weakness, snapped, "Pathetic? You know what's pathetic, Harry? You're always playing the hero, always nosing into stuff that isn't any of your business, like you're seeking some kind of glory. Did it ever occur to you that even the Boy Who Lived could make a mistake? Did _anyone _ever stop to think that the _Other Potter_ might know something famous Harry Potter doesn't? Of course not. All I ever hear is _Oh, did you hear about that Harry Potter? He's so brave, he must be such a wonderful wizard. _Or more recently, _Potter's such a nutter. Did you hear that he claimed he dueled with You-Know-Who? _No one cares about me. No one cares that maybe Vanessa can do some stuff too."

Harry eyes widened. "I can't believe _how selfish you are_," he said furiously. "How do you think it's like for me? Do you think I _want _to be the center of attention everywhere? Do you think I _like_ that everyone asks me to re-live the events of last June? Do you think I _like_ that I've had to put up with all the comments and insults about you? Do you think I like defending you all the time? I've been telling everyone for years that you're not a bad person, that you're just like us. And let me tell you, the Boy Who Lived _can_ make a mistake. And that was mine. You're a Slytherin through and through." He eyed my necklace with slight disgust as he said this.

"So what if I am? After all, Harry, all I'll ever be is your little sister."

He turned his back on me. "Not anymore."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, before everyone starts hating on Vanessa, **_**please please**_** put yourself in her shoes for a sec. You all know what it's like when you get really mad, right? You say a bunch of stuff you don't mean? Exactly! Personally, I think Harry's argument was better. And yeah, Vanessa was being kind of a bitch, but hey all of us are sometimes ! (: (especially when our big brothers are being jackasses.)**

**

* * *

**

Two hours later, Fred and George found me in the drawing room, my eyes red and puffy.

"Nice day to spend Christmas day, isn't it?" I said feebly, my throat dry and raw.

The twins sprawled out on either side of me and slung their arms carelessly around my shoulders.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Ness," said George.

"Yeah, Harry's a real prat," said Fred. "I don't know how we've never noticed it before. You know, just a few moments ago, Mum asked Harry where you were, and he answered—his face a perfect mask of innocence—who Vanessa was—"

"I don't think she needs to hear stuff like that," said George quickly as I gave a loud hiccup.

"Nessie's a big girl," said Fred, grinning at me. "She can take it. Besides, Ness, you don't need him, not when you've got two gems like us."

"Can you guys leave me alone, please?" I mumbled, staring at my knees.

"So you can sit up here for another two hours and wallow in self-pity?" snorted Fred.

"Not likely," said George.

"Please?"

"Oh look, Georgie," said Fred, sounding amused. "She's being polite to us. Maybe Harry should piss her off more often."

"Takes a lot for her to say please," said George thoughtfully. "Maybe we should leave her alone."

Fred sighed, but stood up, muttering, "Killjoy. See you later, Ness. Next time we see you, you better not be covered in your own snot."

I looked down at my robes as the door slammed.

"I'm not covered in snot," I grumbled.

Barely a moment later, Sirius opened the door and took a seat next to me. Before he could even open his mouth, I said,

"Fred and George told you I was here, didn't they?"

He nodded.

I sighed, and went back to staring at my knees. "Remind me to kill them later."

"They just care about you, Vanessa."

"Right," I snorted. "That's why they always go out of their way to annoy the living shit out of me."

Sirius's lips twitched. "I'd be more freaked out that you have living shit than the fact that Fred and George annoy you."

"It's just an expression, Sirius."

"Right. Well, the twins just don't know how else to show that they care about you than to make fun of you. They're just teasing, Vanessa, they don't mean half the things they say."

I snorted. "Who are you, Dr. Phil?"

I stared at him, expecting him to blank out and ask me who Dr. Phil was, but he grinned and said,

"I love that show!"

I blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Jealous of his bald head or something?"

Sirius's grin widened. "Nah, I was thinking more of the mustache."

* * *

**A/N: thanks for all the reviews, anyway. Teehee, did about the revolver work? That's cool. Ahahaa, cause I actually do have a friend whose parents bought a revolver. (Yeah, I'm not too sure about their parenting skills, either.) And in class, he was like, "Alright everyone, who can picture me all grown up with like, tattoos and guns and stuff?" and pretty much everyone raised their hands, and he was like "Fer real? Sweet!" -_- boys. I think tattoos are a major turn-off. That and smoking. Yuckk. **

**Anyway, sorry I couldn't get this out earlier. I have to deal with a bunch of graduation stuff. Like... high school applications -_- Ahahahah, yeah I'm thirteen. Shush, age is so not a big deal here -_- And other graduation stuff, like this Tea thingy where our teachers teach us etiquette and manners and how to be "classy" 'cause they think our parents don't think us that stuff at home. And we had to dance and stuff, too. I ended up going with my best guy friend, which kind of pissed my boyfriend off... Anyway, whatever. Junior High is not a time to be stressing about boy troubles. **

**Oh hey, can anyone help me decide on my electives? I'm thinking about either taking Music Appreciation or doing Yearbook and editing the school newspaper. 'Cause I've taken music since was... I dunno, 4? So it'd be a real big waste if I didn't do something with it. And I love to write... hence the fanfiction? But my grade's not that great in English because I tend not to focus on schoolwork (x so i might not make it in. And plus it's a lot of work, and yeah, I'm lazy. Do you think I write good for thirteen? going on fourteen? teehee, my birthday's in 3 months! (: **

**but yeah, do you guys think my writings okay for my age? do you think i can get a pass in Publications? Or maybe I should just take Music :\ **

**REVIEW, DUDESSSSS. I know it's totally stereotypical for a Californian to be like "WHAT'S CHILLIN' DUUUDESSS". ahhaaa, but we actually do that. ...well, not exactly like that. We just say DUUUUDE a lot and instead of WHAT'S CHILLIN', I say, "WHATS HANGING, HOMESKILLET". Maybe it's just me (; REVIEW, HOMESKILLETS! (: **


	14. Chapter 14 YA'LL!

**A/N: **HEY YA'LL GUESS WHO'S BACK? I DUNNO... HAS ANYONE ACTUALLY READ THIS CHAPTER? JUST CAUSE IT SAYS ILL UPDATE IT LATER DOESNT MEAN YOU SHOULD DISREGARD MY HARD WORK D: oh except GrimmsJowGirll, you totally make my day (: and yeah, americans are weird. I, HOWVEER, AM ONLY HALF AMERICAN, AND THAT HALF OF ME IS VERY OFFENDED. AND THE ASIAN HALF OF ME IS SCREAMING "HELL YEAAAAH, THEY'RE SUCH WEIRDOES." okay, maybe im not helping my case.

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO _ON MYSTIC LAKE_ BY KRISTIN HANNAH. ITS AN AWESOME BOOK (; oh and also to my new friends! Nick, Blake, Riley, Kenny, Seth, Jared, and Zach! and ya'll revievers!

**DISCLAIMER: i love ya'll with the Washington DC accents (; **

Chapter 14

I spent the next few days up in my room, sulking and ignoring Fred and George's many attempts to cheer me up. I was avoiding everyone in the house. Sirius included. Once, Ginny had stormed up into my room and threw a fit, saying that I had to let this go and I couldn't avoid them forever. I started booby-trapping the landing outside my room after that.

Just to clear things up, I'm not depressed or anything. In fact, I had written a very angry, very expressive, very identical letter to both Ashley and Draco explaining my situation. The next day, I had received fat letters full of sympathy, comfort, and of course, Harry-slander.

I was actually feeling quite content and spent hours blowing raspberries at unsuspecting muggles, or otherwise lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and counting the cracks. Let's just say that it's very dull staying cooped up in your room for 4 days straight. I did get hungry, too, but Ginny was good about bringing me meals every day. It was actually pretty nice. I think I'll spend the rest of my life pretending to be depressed.

We all loaded onto the Knight Bus the morning after the New Year. Sirius gave me a large bear hug, whispered for me to be good, and gave me the _worried parent _look. I barely suppressed a grin.

Later that evening, I met Draco in the common room, scooping up a very grumpy Sebastian and apologizing over and over for leaving him behind.

"Hey," said Draco, smiling, "nice necklace."

"Thanks. I got it from someone really special."

He smirked. "Wow, I wonder who that is. I might have to beat the bastard up."

I laughed. "That's cute."

"Excuse me," he said, sounding highly offended. "I believe that I'm more _tough_ than cute."

I heard a snort and Ashley plopped down beside me, holding a can of pop. "I bet you still believe in the Babbity Rabbity too."

I blanked. "Who's Babbity Rabbity? And why are you drinking soda at this time of night? You're gonna get cavities."

Both Draco and Ashley snorted so loudly that many people turned to stare.

"What?" I asked defensively. "It's true."

And so the days passed, and Harry never even glanced at me anymore. It was getting so bad, that even Ashley was beginning to notice.

"Hey, what's up with you and the pOtter" she asked me late one night, as Parkinson and BUllstrode snored loud enough to cause avalanches in the mountains.

I tried to feign sleep. She threw a pillow at me.

"Oy, Potter!" she hissed in the darkness. "Don't give me that bullshit!"

I sighed, rolled over to face her, and accidentally squashed Sebastian, eliciting a yowl from the tabby cat.

"Oops, sorry, Sebastian. And it's nothing, Ash. Harry's still being a bitch, it's nothing unusual."

There was a pause. Then, "So that argument you two had over the holidays... Still holding a grudge?"

"Nah, I'm just keeping a promise. He told me I wasn't his sister anymore, and I'm sticking to it."

Ashley was quiet. "But you miss him."

"No, I don't," I snapped. "Shut up and go to sleep, Turner."

"V, Potter is staring at you," Draco whispered over breakfast.

_Don't look up. Don't look up. Don't look up. Ah, crap I looked up._

Harry, however, was deep in conversation with Dean Thomas. I tried my best not to feel disappointed.

Over the course of the next few days, Harry avoided me the best he could; Draco constantly eyed my necklace and opened his mouth as if to say something, only to snap it shut at the last minute; Ashley often gave me a meaningful look every time Harry was in sight; and Blaise and Draco continued to have secret arguments.

"Leaeve me alone, Blaise! It's none of your business what I'm doing."

Ashley and I froze at the sound of angry voices. We looked at each other anxiously.

"It _is_ my business. What if someone gets hurt again? I'm not going to let you do this."

What are you going to do?" Draco's voice sneered. "Tell the teachers on me?"

"Maybe we should go," whispered Ashley.

I nodded, and we all but ran back to the common room.

"They're not being very sneaky, are they?" Ashley said reprovingly. "I wonder how many others have walked in on one of their rows."

"Whatever," I said tiredly. "I'm just going to get started on my Herbology paper."

Blaise and Draco were no longer speaking, keeping a stubborn silence whenever we forced their company together, and leaving me and Ashley wondering what the hell was wrong.

The Hogsmeade trip on valentines' Day came and went, leaving both Ashley and I sorely disappointed that Blaise and Draco had not yet made up and that we were forced to sit in silence in the Three Broomsticks all day. To be honest, Ashley was more than _disappointed_. I think downright livid is a better term to describe her.

"Just get over yourselves," Ashley was yelling in the common room. "Get the fuck over your stupid boy egos and make up because I am sick and tired of listening to you two bitch and bicker about everything when you're supposed to be best friends!"

Many people were staring. Some looked curious, others looked amused, and others had a 'w_hat is she going on about this time'_ look. Draco and Blaise, however, were looking stubborn and bored, which only pissed Ashley off that much more.

"Ugh! You two are going to be the death of me, I swear."

And she trudged out of the common room. I had a feeling she was going to the library.

Draco, Blaise, and I sat for a few more moments by the fire, just staring at each other. The boys had identical scowls on their faces. I sighed, and got up to use the bathroom. When I came back, Draco was gone, and Blaise was perfectly cheerful again.

"Wanna Fizzing Whizbee?" he asked, offering one to me.

"No thanks."

He shrugged, levitating a few inches off his chair. "Your loss."

It was seriously starting to look as though I was going to have to put up with friends who would never speak to each other again.

"I mean," said Ashley as we headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts, "if they're not going to be mature, why should I?"

"So you guys are leaving me to be mature?" I said glumly.

"Oh. Right. Okay, we're probably going to regret that later, but whatever."

Umbridge was looking shaken and not at all controlled, I noted as we entered the classroom.

"Turner! Potter! You're late! Fifty points from Slytherin!"

"What!" I burst out. "We're only about three seconds late!"

"I will have none of your cheek, Potter!" she screeched. "Detention!"

Muttering furiously under my breath, I looked for a spot to sit. Blaise and Draco sat halfway across the room from each other, both with an empty seat next to them. They waved at me hopefully. I shook my head at their mulishness and sat by Daphne Greengrass. Ashley looked furious. Draco just shrugged and motioned at Theodore Nott. Blaise gestured at Ashley timidly. As expected, she turned up her nose and went to go sit by Hannah Abbott.

"What's Umbridge so peeved about?" I muttered under my breath.

Although I was talking mostly to myself, Daphne answered. "Oh, but didn't you see? Your brother did an interview for the Quibbler. It's brilliant." Her eyes shone. "I'd do anything to be brave like that... here I've got a copy. But don't read it here," she said hastily. "Umbridge banned students from reading the Quibbler."

She had a soft voice and wide, brown eyes, but I've often seen her hanging around Parkinson and her gang. I wondered why she would choose someone like Parkinson to be her friend, but decided it was none of my business.

"Thanks," I whispered and she handed me the magazine under the table.

"You know, everyone's really mad at you," she said matter-of-factly. "I saw their faces when Umbridge took off fifty points. So don't tell anyone I gave that to you. You can keep it."

--

"Oy, did y'all see the Quibbler?" said Ashley that night in the common room.

"Yeah," I said, holding out Daphne's copy. "I just got one from Daphne."

"Greengrass?" she said sharply. "What were you doing with her?"

"What are you? My overly possessive boyfriend?"

She grinned. "No, I'll leave that to Harry and Draco. But Greengrass isn't good company to keep."

"Why's that?"

"She's a backstabber and a two-faced bitch, that's why," said Ashley bitterly. "Just like that guy who betrayed your parents. What's his name? Peter Pettigrew. She'll stick to the tough crowd for protection, but when push comes to shove, she'll desert them, and where does that leave them? Dead, just like your parents."

I stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

She shrugged, and returned to her model of the galaxy.

Blaise sank into an armchair next to us, propped his feet on the table, and accidentally knocked over an ink bottle over my just-completed Potions essay.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

"Whoops, sorry."

He used his wand to siphon up all the ink. "There, all better. Don't throw a tantrum."

"Hello Blaise," said Ashley icily.

All the blood drained from his face. "Uh, hey Ash."

There was a very awkward pause.

"So, nice weather we're having, eh?" he said weakly.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Just admit you were being a stubborn prat, go make up with Draco, and get this over with."

Blaise visibly relaxed, and grinned his old grin. "You'll never catch me alive!" he cried, sprung up, and dashed out of the common room.

"Idiot," Ashley sighed. "Anyway, back to the Quibbler. Did you see that Draco's father was named as one of the Death Eaters?"

"I heard my name," said Draco, appearing out of thin air, "in the same sentence as 'Death Eater'. What's up?"

"You didn't happen to see the latest issue of the Quibbler, did you?" asked Ashley.

"No, actually I haven't. I've been kind of busy—"

"We've noticed," Ashley and I said in unison.

Draco flushed.

Indeed, Draco had reverted back to his old habits of disappearing for long periods of time, and it was starting to show in his face. It was paler now, with a grayish tinge.

"Here's a copy," said Ashley, breaking the silence and offering Daphne's copy to him.

"Hey, that's mine—"

She shushed me as Draco took the magazine and began to read. When he finished, he looked furious.

"You don't believe this rubbish, do you V?" he asked.

"Um, well actually," I hesitated. It actually explained a lot of stuff that the Prophet's been leaving out, but did Harry honestly expect us to believe that bozos like Crabbe and Goyle could have families who are Death Eaters? Or even weedy little Nott—Nott... didn't I meet his father over the holiday? Well then that's proof, I thought triumphantly. Nott's father was perfectly nice to me. There's no way he could be a Death Eater. "No, I don't."

Instead of looking satisfied, like I expected to be, Draco's face was uneasy. I could see the indecision in his eyes.

"You guys..." he trailed off, looking unsure.

"What?"

Draco bit his lip and looked away. "Never mind. I'm going to sleep, all right? See you in the morning."

X

The next few days passed peacefully. Blaise and Ashley had made up, and Draco really was making an effort with Blaise, although things were still tense. I felt the fake Galleon still lying in my pocket burn several times a week, and often considered attending the DA meetings again. Then, I'd see Harry in the halls, studiously ignoring me, and knew I wouldn't be welcome. Fred and George were okay, I guess. At least, they were trying to act as if everything was normal. Trying too hard, maybe.

"Hey Ness," George said one night as Draco and I made our rounds. "How's my favorite prefect doing?"

"Still hanging out with our least favorite prefect a lot, I see," said Fred, looking at Draco pointedly.

Draco snorted and stalked away.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked once Draco disappeared around a corner. "It's past curfew."

The twins looked at each other, and exploded with laughter.

"Shes—telling—us—we're out past curfew," Fred gasped, his body still racked with laughter.

"Oh Nessie,," said George fondly, patting my shoulder. "You just made our day right then, acting high and mighty. If you keep this up, you can join the Malfoys."

"Of course," said Fred slyly, "that's exactly what you want isn't it? To be married to the biggest git of our generation, then have git-babies who will be the biggest gits of their generation? You guys are going to make history."

My face must be bright red by now.

"Go suck a dick," I muttered, pushing past them. "I need to finish my rounds."

"Oh come on," said George, following me. "We were just teasing. Say, Nessie, you wanna start attending DA meetings again? It's been really lonely without you there. Everyone misses you."

I snorted.

"Okay, maybe not everyone—"

"—or anyone, actually," mumbled Fred, but added hastily, "Except for us, of course."

"Anyway," said George, "there's another meeting tomorrow night, did ya know? You should come."

Yeah, I did know, actually. I had felt the coin burn this morning, and had checked it just in case. But still, I knew I wouldn't go.

"Nah, I probably shouldn't. You know that Smith bloke will probably tear me apart if I even step into that corridor again. And besides, Harry hates me," I said the last part flippantly, as if I didn't care. As if it didn't hurt.

The twins weren't fooled. I swear that they're smarter than they let on. They would've gotten more than 3 O.W.L.s each, if only they had put some time into it. Now, they exchanged another look.

"Just try, Ness," said Fred, sounding awfully like Sirius. "You never know."

I sighed. "Whatever. I'm going to bed."

"We'll walk you," said George quickly, falling into step beside me.

"What am I, seven years old?"

But I let them walk me down to the dungeon. I listened as they laughed, and joked, and teased me, and I didn't even protest when the each took my hand and told me that everything was going to be all right. The truth is, it feels good to be worried about, instead of being the one that always has to worry. I let them kiss me good night and listened to their reassurances that Harry would come around and I watched as they disappeared down the hall.

Draco wasn't in the common room when I entered it, but I wasn't exactly surprised. I always finished my rounds before him. I considered waiting for him to come back, but remembered that the last time I had done that, Blaise had come down in the middle of the night to spray my face with whipped cream. So I turned around and headed down to my dormitory.

If only I had stayed, I might have been able to figure it out earlier.

**A/N: ooooooh, foreshadowing.... MYSTERIOUS.  
OKAY, WHO'S PROUD OF ME? (;**

**READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE AND THANK YOU, YA'LL MADAMS! AND MISSRS! (: **


	15. In Which I Spit In Pansy Parkinsons Face

A/N: alright, you guys, GET READY! this is the beginning of the climax. just thought ya'll should know (; i was thinking about saving this for later, but it would just end up with lots of chapters filled with meaningless drama that would eventually end up with this chapter anyway. so i decided to just skip it and get to this part.

**DISCLAIMER: i actually own less in this chapter than usual. **

Chapter 15—In Which I Spit in Pansy Parkinson's Face

"Kenneth?" I suggested.

"Scorpius," he countered.

"Adrian?"

"What kind of name is Mason?"

"What kind of name is Scorpius?"

It was one of the few moments that Draco and I were alone—well, not _alone_; there were about 500 other students in the Great Hall, but no one was bothering us, at least. We so rarely had time to ourselves now, with me being busy studying for the fast-approaching O.W.L.s and Draco disappearing to who-knows-where every day. These moments were valued, precious, and—

"Discussing baby names?" said Ashley, appearing behind us. "Yuck."

--always interrupted. I sighed.

"Hey Ash."

"Did you guys see the notice up in the common room?" she asked. "Apparently, Umbridge got another Educational Decree passed, giving her the power to create an Inquisitorial Squad that pretty much undermines the entire prefect system," she smirked at the prefect badges glittering on our robes. "She is such a tyrant... Blaise is signing up for me right now."

I spurted orange juice all over the table. "WHAT?! Why?"

"Because we're power-hungry, ministry-loving morons, V. Why else? Draco's joining too."

"He is?"

"I am?"

"Of course," said Ashley knowingly. "He's a power-hungry, ministry-loving moron, isn't he?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it. I turned on him.

"You're not going to sign up, are you?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? If signing up for the Inquisitorial Squad gives students more power than prefects, then... probably, yeah."

"You power-hungry, ministry-loving moron," I replied, my eyes daggers.

"Maybe. Or you can say I'm ambitious."

"Or I can say you're the next Percy Weasley."

Draco shuddered. "Don't say that, V. It makes me feel icky inside. Anyway, you should sign up too, V."

"She'll never make it in," said Ashley. "Umbridge hates her."

I agreed, just as Blaise arrived, proudly showing off his new Inquisitorial Squad badge.

"Hey Ash, Draco, V," he said, acknowledging each one of us in turn. "Oh hey Ash, Umbridge rejected you. She says you're too cheeky for the Inquisitorial Squad. Tough luck."

"WHAT?!" she screeched. "CHEEKY? ME? NEVER!"

I snorted. "You're such a bullshitter, Ash."

"Just 'cause you're too big of a wimp to try anything," she shot back.

I grinned. "Whatever, bullshitter."

"Ashley's right, you know," said Blaise. "You are pretty big of a wimp. Why don't you try something new for once?"

I made a face at him, and stalked out of the Great Hall and into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Umbridge was already at her desk. From the way her quill was moving, I could tell someone had jut gotten a D on their most recent essay on the theory of shield charms. I couldn't blame them; the stupid textbook she was forcing us to read used such complex words that I had even caught Ashley trying to decipher it with a dictionary. I was seized by a sudden, reckless urge to go up to her and ask for permission to join the Inquisitorial Squad, thereby proving Blaise and Ashley wrong and giving me the opportunity to scream HAHAHAH, I TOLD YOU SO in their faces.

"Professor Umbridge?" I asked sweetly.

"Yes?" she replied in an equally sweet voice.

"I was wondering if I could join the Inquisitorial Squad..."

"Were you? Well, that's just too bad," she said before I could finish. "Unfortunately, only _good_ students are permitted."

"But Professor Umbridge," I argued, while secretly calling her every bad name I could think of in my head, "I've received Outstandings in many of your last homework assignments."

"Yes, but my sources tell me that you've been copying off of Miss Turner."

"Sources?" I said blankly.

"Yes, Miss Potter, _sources. _You see, when you are in a high position like I am—though you will not be any time soon—you tend to have very reliable spies that watch your every move," she smiled sweetly before returning to her essays. "So I'd watch your step if I were you."

"Um, alright—I mean, yes ma'am."

I walked down the long aisle of desks--some already filled with nervous looking students. I chewed my lip, deep in thought. Spies. Spies. Spies. Why does that give me a bad feeling? Oh _duh_, spies.

--

**Draco POV**

Nott and I were in a secluded corner of the common room, conversing in low tones.

"Tonight's the night, Draco," he said gleefully. "Tonight's the night."

"I know, Theodore."

He's been saying that over and over for the last twenty minutes.

"And the little ministry-loving toad being such a big part and not even knowing," he cackled.

"Yes, Theodore, I know," I said wearily, rubbing my aching temple. This conversation was getting hopelessly dull. I was waiting for Vanessa to come in.

As if on cue, she entered the common room, deep in thought. When she saw me, she looked vaguely surprised. To see me actually waiting here for her, or because of my present company?

"Hi Draco," she said, and turned to Nott, unsure whether or not she should greet him as well.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it," said Nott, grinning slyly behind Vanessa's back.

That's disgusting. Did he expect me to shag her right before I left her? Actually that be too—NO! I shook my head, disgusted with myself. I could just imagine the look on Vanessa's face as she calls me a stupid hormonal teenage boy, as if that was all I was. I'm nothing even close to an ordinary teenage boy—sure, I was hormonal, but all of us are—but after all, the Dark Lord—

"Draco, you better not be having a monologue in your head," said Vanessa, snapping me out of my monologue. "Only bad guys in really cheesy superhero movies do that."

"Maybe I am a bad guy," I said.

She snorted. "Yeah, and one day you're going to be supreme overlord of the entire Wizarding community. Come on, Draco, the bad boy approach might have worked the first two weeks, but it's been a year. Don't you think it's getting old?"

"It's not an act," I said seriously. "Look"—I pointed at the Inquisitorial Squad badge—"step one for my plan for world domination. Hey, tell you what; when I rule the world, you can be my queen. Or my emperess, or maybe my... dictatoress? Whichever you prefer."

"Can I be your cook, too?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, hell no!" I cried in mock horror. "You're trying to poison me, aren't you? But it'll never work, you know, V. Goyle is my food taster. Poor Goyle, he won't last a day eating your food."

She pushed me playfully. "My cooking isn't that bad. But even if I _do_ poison it, he wouldn't even taste it. He'd be smiling as he dies and his last words will be 'Can I have some more?'."

"Oh no, I've tried your cooking," I said. "Dreadful, just dreadful. Maybe that's why your potion-making is so abysmal."

"I didn't know you understood words like 'abysmal', Draco. Where did they teach you that, at the Wannabe Dictator Academy?"

"Very amusing, my sarcastic friend. We'll see who's laughing when I am supreme overlord."

She laughed. "The day you become supreme overload is the day Ashley gets a job as a greengrocer."

"You never know," I said quietly. The change in my tone made her look up, her big green eyes confused. I took her emerald pendant into my hands, playing with it absentmindedly. "Do you want to hear a story?"

"Uh, sure."

"Once upon a time, way before our time... I'm talkin' Middle Ages here—"

"Okay, I get it," said Vanessa, rolling her eyes. "It was a long time ago."

"You just killed my mojo. Okay, anyway, my great-great-great-great-great... I lost count. Well, he was old. One of my grandfathers, Brutus Malfoy—aha, see I remember his name—fell in love with my great-great-great—well you get the point—and he made her this necklace. _A Malfoy deserves only the best_; that was his favorite saying. And of course, the same goes for future Malfoys. So he went to the best jeweler of the day—I forgot his name—and demanded him to find the biggest, shiniest emerald in the world and craft it into something worthy of a Malfoy. Well, it took a while, but finally, the jeweler had shaped the emerald into a heart, and fit it into a pair of silver serpents. Later, when their son—I forgot his name too—came to Hogwarts, his mother gave him the necklace, and told him to give it to The One. And since then, it has been passed on from mother to son to love, which becomes mother, and so on."

When I finished the story, I looked at Vanessa expectantly. She was still trying to piece parts of the story together.

"Are you saying..." she said slowly. "That this necklace is about a _thousand years old_?"

She yelped and tried to pull it off, crying, "I'm gonna break it, I'm gonna break it!"

"Calm down!" I said, almost laughing. "It's all right."

She looked at me as if I were crazy. "Draco Malfoy, are you _out of your mind? _This thing is a fucking antique—and an expensive one at that—and you're giving it to _me_? Haven't you learned never to trust me with anything remotely valuable?"

I sighed and continued to massage my temples. They were throbbing by now.

Realization hit Vanessa like a hammer. She literally jerked back and exclaimed, "OHHHHHHHHH. Wait, are you saying that—OHHHHHHHH." Her eyes shone. "Really, Draco?"

"Yeah—"

"_Seriously_? Draco Malfoy, what are you smoking?"

But there was no denying the happiness in her eyes.

"Love you too."

"I'm going to marry you one day, Vanessa. Vanessa Malfoy. How does that sound?"

_Tonight was the night_.

I took her face into my hands; she looked up at me eagerly, her lips slightly parted. So I kissed her. It was slow and gentle and not at all demanding. All with my lips, I tried to apologize for what was to come; I tried to apologize for what I've already done; I asked her to wait for me; I poured out my heart and soul, and told her to keep it safe.

When we finally broke apart, I was feeling strangely hollow and empty, whereas Vanessa looked full to the brim. _Keep it safe for me_.

"I think I hear Blaise calling me," I lied through my teeth. "I'll see you later, V."

I kissed her cheek on last time as I rose from the chair. I couldn't help but let my lips linger on her skin for one moment too long. But she didn't notice.

"Love you," I murmured one last time.

I met Nott outside the common room, and together, we made our way to Dolores Umbridge's office. Crabbe and Goyle, alone with Pansy and a bunch of other nitwits will be waiting there for us.

Phase One was about to commence.

**Vanessa POV**

As the portrait hole swung shut on Draco's retreating figure, I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. My fingers clasped around my old necklace and remembered the centuries-old promise that came with it: a future Malfoy.

Harry's going to be furious.

Speaking of Harry... I pulled out the brass pocket watch Harry had gotten me 2 birthdays ago. It was five to 8. I better get going.

Fred and George were waiting for me outside the Room of Requirement, next to the statue of Barnabus the Barmy, because I was too much of a wimp to go in myself.

"Ready?" said Fred.

"Not really."

"Didn't think so," said George, pushing open the door.

It was a familiar sight, all the DA members relaxing on the scattered cushions, talking and laughing. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up as we entered, probably expecting Cho and her curly-haired friend, Marietta, whose cushions were empty. Harry sprang up at the sight of me, then looked slightly embarrassed and unsure of himself.

Well, who would've known?

"Hey," was all I said.

There was a very awkward pause. All the chatter had died away, leaving a dozen pairs of eyes staring up at us. Fred and George gave me a thumbs up and slinked away to join Lee Jordan, who's eyes were as big as golf balls.

Harry swallowed. "Hey."

Just like that—just by hearing his voice, the dam broke. All the words I've kept trapped inside came gushing out.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I 'm so, so sorry. I should've listened to you. you are my brother, after all. I've missed you so much. It just hasn't been the same, not having a brother to bicker with. It's just that—will you two cut it out?"

Fred and George had both conjured hankerchiefs and were now pretending to cry into them.

"But—it's—just—so—_touching!_" bawled George.

"But by all means, continue," said Fred, who had instantly regained his composure.

I sighed, trying to ignore the audience. "What I was saying was—it's not always easy being compared to Harry Potter. Sometimes I just like to be plain old Vanessa Rose, instead of the Other Potter. Draco, he's never just seen me as your sister; he saw me as me. Still, I'm sorry, Harry, I should've given you a chance. And I know we haven't spoken for months, but I was hoping we could pick up where we left off. So... are we cool?"

Harry gave me an awkward smile. "Yeah, of course. I've missed you having you as a sister, too." And he stepped forward, enveloping me in warmth that comes only from a brother's embrace.

There was a chorus of 'aww's and suddenly, as mass of bodies surrounded us in a gigantic group hug. For the next few minutes, I was shaking hands with Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, and Anthony Goldstein; and catching up with Luna and Neville; and giving hugs to Ginny and Hermione; and accepting 'welcome back's from Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan and the rest of Harry's Quidditch team—besides Katie Bell; and comforting Lavender and Padma and Parvarti, who had burst into tears; and assuring Ron that yes, I had missed him too. Everyone seemed to have welcomed me back into the old circle. I think it helped that the necklace that Draco had given me was tucked under my robes. I couldn't help noticing, though, that Zacharias Smith was standing in the corner throughout all of this, looking surly and suspicious. Just as I noticed that, Cho came barging in, apologizing for being late and explaining that Marietta couldn't make it today. Then, upon seeing me, squealed with delight and hugged me.

"Harry," said Hermione after another few minutes of this. "It's twenty past 8; shouldn't we get started?"

Harry looked up from his conversation with me, checked his pocket watch, and said, "We'll catch up later, Ness." Then, raising his voice, "Okay, for the last couple of meetings, we've been working our Patronus. Some of us actually got it"—he glanced at Hermione—"but others haven't had as much luck. Remember—think of something happy, the happiest memory you have. All right, start!" he turned to me again. "I know you've been behind, Ness, but Defense Against the Dark Arts is your best subjects, and you should be able to catch up. Remember—the happiest memory you can think of."

"Right."

Harry left to go check on other people's progress, and I raised my wand, remembered the happiness that had swelled inside me when everyone had rushed into our group hug, and shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!" _

Nothing. I sighed, and tried again. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

Still nothing. I looked around the room at the other members, most of which had produced silver vapors. Hermione had a silver otter dancing around her.

"Maybe you need a stronger memory," suggested Harry, who had magically appeared behind me.

"Okay, umm..."

I remembered the first time Draco had told me he loved me.

"_Expecto Patronum!" _

A thin silvery wisp floated out of the tip of my wand.

"Good," said Harry approvingly. "You got it on the third try. Not bad."

"How many tries did it take Hermione to produce a corporeal Patronus?" I challenged.

He hesitated. "Two. But don't compare yourself to her," he said hastily as I groaned. "She's brilliant, but she's also a freak. C'mon, Nessie, you can do it."

_You're going to marry me one day, Vanessa. Vanessa Malfoy. How does that sound?_

My heart soared as I heard those words again, and as I lifted my wand, I knew I'd have no trouble producing a Patronus. "_Expecto Patronum!" _

A silver doe erupted from my wand. She pranced around the Room of Requirement, doubling the light in the room. I was smiling so hard I thought my face might crack open. I didn't know why, though.

There was a slam as the door of the Room of Requirement opened and closed. A hushed silence had fallen among the DA members, most of whom were goggling at the many-hatted house elf who was tugging at Harry's robes. After a brief exchange, in which the house elf tried to do extensive damage to himself several times, Harry raised his voice, obviously panicked. All of the Patronuses disappeared, leaving the room strangely dim.

"Does she know about us, Dobby? Is she coming here right now?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!" howled Dobby the house elf.

There was a pause in which everyone was wondering the same thing.

"IT WAS HER!" yelled Zacharias Smith immediately, pointing at me.

Everyone turned to look at me. I was wide-eyed.

"No, I swear I didn't—"

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL WAITING FOR?" bellowed Harry. "RUN, WE'LL SETTLE THIS LATER!"

The room erupted with screams, and everyone ran towards the door, all trying to get through at the same time. I stood in the middle of the room, dumbstruck.

"Come on, Nessie!" shouted Ron, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the knot of panicked DA members.

We sprinted through the corridors, looking for somewhere to hide. There were footsteps behind us. Someone was following us.

"AAGH!"

"SHIT!"

Something caught both of us around the ankle, and we fell spectacularly. I slid a couple inches after hitting the ground, scraping my face raw against the cold stone floor.

"I got someone!" an obnoxiously familiar voice squealed.

"You little wart, _I _got them!"

I tried to shift my weight off my stinging face, but a rough pair of hands seized my forearms.

"Would you look at that," sneered Parkinson. "It's the Other Potter! Wait 'till I tell Draco! Nice face, by the way."

I spat blood into her smirking face.

**A/N: okay, this chapter needs some explaining. **

**1.) V's Patronus is a doe, same as her mom, and same as Snape. It's the same as her mom for obvious reasons... or maybe not so obvious. Well, as Harry has a connection with his dad, i thought V ought to have a connection with her mom. There's also a symbolic reasoning to it. A doe is portrayed as the pinnacle of innocence, right? Well how many of you have told me that Vanessa is very stubborn? Well I interpreted that as she's a believer. In other words, innocent. So yeah. **

**2.) ... i think thats all. **

**_ALRIGHT EVERYONE, I HAVE A HUGE FAVOR TO ASK OF YOU GUYS: I NEED AT LEAST 7 REVIEWS BY APRIL 20TH. ME & ASH HAVE THIS BET GOING ON INVOLVING A GALLON OF ICE CREAM, TWENTY BUCKS (I DON'T KNOW HOW THAT CONVERTS TO POUNDS OR EUROS OR PESOS OR... AUSTRALIAN MONEY. TWENTY BUCKS IS TWENTY BUCKS TO ME). AND WHETHER OR NOT SOMEONE DIES IN THIS FIC. SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME 7 REVIEWS BY TUESDAY, APRIL 20TH. YA'LL WILL SEE WHAT'LL HAPPEN LATER. _**

**BY THE WAY, IT'S ASH'S BIRTHDYA ON THE 22ND. WISH HER A HAPPY ONE FOR ME! **


	16. And So It Begins

**A/N: OMG, I'M SORRY ITS BEEN... A WEEK SINCE I LAST UPDATED! but i've been busy SLACKING OFF from school the past week, so it took me awhile to get back on track. & plus, this week Cali's taking CST's. NO HOMEWORK! (; but lotsa procrastination+late-night studying+sleepy mornings and bad test scores. D; whatever, though. i'm seriously not taking this seriously enough. **

**disclaimer: i copied some stuff out of the book. not much, though. THANK THE CHEESE!**

"Hey, let her go!" Ron shouted, struggling against Crabbe.

Crabbe punched him in the gut. "Shut your face, Weasel, or I'll shut it for you." Another punch.

Surely being in the Inquisitorial Squad doesn't give you permission to beat people up, does it? I could feel blood dripping off my face. From the horrorstruck expression on Ron's face, I guess I looked pretty bad. Stupid stone floors.

Goyle hauled me to my feet, and poked me hard in the ribs. "Git goin'," he grunted, giving me another poke.

So Ron and I were forced to stumble along the long corridors down to the Toad's Den, listening to Parkinson's annoying chatter.

"You thought Draco was _your _mate all this time, didn't you?" she cackled. "I'll admit, he even had me fooled for a while, but now there's no denying that we were meant to be. You'll see, Potter, in the end it'll be _me _standing beside him with a white dress, there's no doubt about it. He's so _talented_ and perfect for me, of course. One day I'll be Pansy Malfoy, and you, little Miss Potter, will be 10 feet under alongside your dear parents."

The entire way down, the Malfoy necklace was bouncing off my chest.

"You'll see, Potter, you'll see," she said for the twenty-eighth time.

I was almost glad when we reached Umbridge's office—until Parkinson pushed open the door. Harry was being held by his hair by a sixth year while Umbridge threatened him; Ginny and Neville were being restrained by Montague and Adrian Pucey; Hermione was pinned to a wall by Millicent Bulstrode; a seventh year had both Cho Chang and Lee Jordan in a head lock; Blaise held Luna loosely at his side; Ashley was trying desperately not to get pummeled by Dennis Creevey's flailing limbs; Draco leaned by the windowsill, twirling Harry's wand and looking very pleased with himself—until he saw me. I heard Harry give a strangled gasp as he too saw my face.

_Oh come on, _i thought sourly. _I'm not that hideous, am I?_

I elbowed Goyle in the ribs in a futile attempt to loosen his hold on me. He didn't even flinch. Furious, I stamped hard on his foot. He looked down on me like I was some annoying insect.

I looked around the room, frustrated and looking for inspiration.

Hermione was trying to throw off Bulstrode—which wasn't working for her and certainly wouldn't work for me as Goyle is four times my size and three times my weight; Neville was turning purple—yeah, somehow I don't think that'll work for me either; Ron was stamping furiously at Crabbe's feet while his nose dripped blood onto the pink rug; one of Dennis's fists very narrowly missed Ashley's face as she tried to catch my eye.

She met Draco, Blaise, and my eyes in turn, and casually raised her forefinger and thumb into an L shape and set it on her chin. Then, she held up three fingers and yelped as Dennis missed her face by centimeters.

I breathed a sigh of relief that—thankfully—went unnoticed by Goyle. The stinging betrayal that I had been denying instantly evaporated as I saw the familiar signal. Originally, it had been devised so we could synchronize the blowing of spitballs to unsuspecting Gryffindors, but this was cool too.

Ashley blinked once. Blaise, Draco and I zeroed in on her face. She blinked again. We tensed, ready to spring.

On the third blink, Ashley released Dennis Creevey, (who was so surprised he toppled over) and lunged at Goyle. He gave a girly shriek and slackened his grip enough for me to twist around and sink my fist into his jaw. I caught my wand as Goyle stumbled backwards and whirled around to face Umbridge and Harry.

"_Stupefy!" _I cried.

She deflected it, but Harry was able to get free and grab his wand from the sill where Draco had left it.

Chaos had erupted. Chairs were being flipped over; Blaise was on one of the seventh year's back, screaming profanities at the top of his lungs and beating him with his fists; the desk had completely disintegrated after a good redactor curse from Angelina Johnson; Ashley was dueling both Bulstrode and Parkinson at once, firing curses at random; Montague jinxed Cho, who was bound by shining black ropes.

"_Diffindo_!" I said, then hurried to my real target: Parkinson and Bulstrode. Petty, I know, but I've been waiting to hex these two since my first year.

Before I could re ach them, however, Dennis Creevey flew across my path and cutting me off before crashing into the wall and slumping down, unconscious. This office was too small for such intensive fighting. But I turned wand out and ready, to face his attacker and found Draco, his lips pressed tight in a defiant line and his wand pointing directly at me. His left sleeve had ridden up slightly, revealing a fraction of the Dark mark, branded into his arm. _No_—

Draco was blasted off his feet as Ginny shot a Bat Bogey Hex at him, enveloping his head in giant flying bogeys. It would've been funny if it weren't so... not funny.

Ashley was goggling at Draco, who was still struggling with the bogeys. She turned to me and I saw the utter disbelief I felt mirrored in her eyes.

"Move!" Harry bellowed, pulling me out of the office. I saw Ashley scramble to her feet. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville followed after us.

"Harry, what happened?" asked Neville.

But Harry ignored him, already sprinting down the corridor. We all exchanged a look, and took off after him.

"But what about everyone else?" panted Neville as we reached the entrance hall, "still fighting in the office?"

Again, Harry ignored him, looking around frantically.

"Harry, will you please tell us what's going on?" said Hermione.

"Voldemort's got Sirius," said Harry bluntly.

"_What_?"

"How d'you—"

"_Sirius Black_?"

Ignoring the last outburst from Ashley, he went ahead and explained how he'd had another crazy vision thing, and passed out, which is how Draco found him later.

_Draco_. I felt my natural defenses activating my favorite I'm-not-going-to-think-about-it-because-if-I-don't-then-maybe-it-never-ahppened shield, or more commonly referred to as the Great Wall of Denial.

"He's at the Department of Mysteries. In a room full of shelves covered in little glass balls. They're at the end of Row 97." Harry took a great shuddering breath. "So how are we going to get there?"

"G-get there?" said Ron weakly.

"Get to the Department of Mysteries so we can rescue Sirius!" said Harry, clearing frustrated.

"Excuse me," said Luna, "but when you say 'Sirius Black' do you mean Stubby Boardman?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the Department of Mysteries is in London," said Ashley, completely ignoring Luna. I saw Hermione give her an approving look.

"We can fly," suggested Luna.

"Okay look," snapped Ron, "maybe you can sprout wings and fly but the rest of actually have to use broomsticks."

"Brooms aren't the only way you can fly, you know," said Luna.

"So I suppose we're going to ride on the back of a Kacky Snorgel, or something—"

"The Crumpled-Horn Snorkack can't fly," said Luna patiently. In the background, Ashley was roaring with laughter. "But we can always—"

"Okay first of all," said Harry, rounding on her. "_We_ aren't doing anything, if you're including yourself in that number, and second of all, Ron's the only one with a broomstick that isn't guarded by a security troll—"

"I've got a broom!" said Ginny eagerly.

"So does Ashley," I said. "I can use hers."

"But neither of you are going!" said Ron angrily.

"And you can't use my broom!" said Ashley in indignation.

"Excuse me," said Ginny, setting her jaw so she looked fantastically like Fred and George, "but Vanessa and I care about what happens to Sirius just as much as you do."

"And if anyone shouldn't go, it's Harry," I said. "It's most likely a trap, and—"

"We're all in the DA together," said Neville quietly. "And Dumbledore's Army was all about taking on You-Know-Who, wasn't it? Or were those just words to you?"

"No, of course it wasn't—"

"Then we should come too," said Neville simply.

"Yes, that's right," said Luna, smiling happily.

"And don't forget me," Ashley spoke up.

We all turned to her.

"I don't even know who you are," said Ron.

"Ashley Turner, nice to meet ya."

"You weren't even in the DA," pointed out Ginny. "And you were helping the Umbridge by catching Dennis Creevey."

"Okay, first of all," said Ashley, flipping her hair back, "who's fault is it that I wasn't in the DA? Hello, no one invited me. And second of all, that little brat Dennis tried to punch my face in the moment he saw me. You would've done the same thing. And third of all—"

"I don't have time for your list!" Harry exclaimed. "We're late enough as it is."

Ashley continued as if there had been no interruption. "—V is my best friend, and if she's going into a life-threatening situation, you guys are_ so_ not leaving me out of this. After all, she can't claim all the credit."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, communicating silently. I really hate when they do that.

"All right, _fine_," said Harry finally. "But we still don't know how we're going to—"

"I thought we settled this," said Luna. "We're going to fly, aren't we?"

"I thought Kacky Snorgels can't fly," said Ron.

"The Crumpled-Horn Snorkack," said Luna again. "And they can't. But _they_ can."

Harry whipped around, and I saw relief flood his face. "Brilliant," he breathed.

"They can probably smell the blood on you," said Luna knowledgeably, nodding at Ron's bleeding nose and my scabbing face.

"Oh, speaking of Vanessa's hideous disfiguration," said Ashley, raising her wand.

"What are you doing to do," I said warily.

"_Accio Dittany!"_

There was a small crash, followed by little tinkling sounds, and a small brown bottle zoomed into Ashley's outstretched hand. She looked up at the broken window. "Oops. Madam Pomfrey won't be mad about that, will she? Anyway, just put some of that on so you don't look like complete shit when I finally meet the godfather you never mentioned you had." She gave me _a look_, and then dashed off to a spot next to where Harry was patting thin air.

"Is it those mad horse things?" said Ron slightly apprehensively.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"How many?"

"Just two."

"Well, we need three," said Hermione.

"Four, Hermione," said Ginny, turning traitor and forgetting to count me.

"I think there are eight of us, actually," said Luna fairly.

"But there aren't enough thestrals for us all," said Harry exasperatedly.

"Oh, that's all right," said Luna, smiling. "More of them are coming now. See?"

We all turned, though from Hermione, Ron and Ginny's expressions, neither of them could see the thestrals either.

"Oh, all right," Harry grumbled. "Pick one and get on."

We watched, dumbstruck, as Harry, Neville, Luna, and Ashley mounted on nothing.

"What?" Ashley demanded once she saw us gaping. "What are you guys waiting for?"

"How're we supposed to get on," said Ron, looking faintly annoyed at Ashley, "if we can't see the bloody things?"

"Oh, it's easy," said Luna, sliding off her thestral and marching over to us. "Come here..."

When Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had mounted their invisible-for-now horses, Luna looked at me with the expression of someone trying to figure out a difficult math problem.

"Hm... it looks like we're one short."

I resisted the urge to say, "No shit."

"Its okay, Luna, I got this!" called Ashley from her thestral. "V and I can share!" and when she saw my horrorstruck expression, she added, "If you want to jump for joy, now's the time to do it."

"Yippee," I said weakly, feeling around the in the air for the thestral. I shuddered when my hand made contact with the soft, leathery skin. There damn thestrals give me the heebie jeebies.

It was seriously weird. I could clearly _feel_ that I was sitting on something, but when I looked down, I only saw the dry grass.

With a large sweeping motion which probably meant the horse was spreading its wings, we took off. The sudden motion caught me by surprise. I yelped and almost topped backwards, but Ashley had a firm grip on one of my arms.

We were going so fast, the seemingly endless grounds of Hogwarts had disappeared in a grand total of two seconds. We were all ducked low, keeping out the slipstream. As I watched the mountains fly under us, I felt the adrenaline kick in. I screamed in exhilaration. Ashley laughed and screamed along with me.

Soon, however, the thrill had begun to wear off, and we were suddenly very aware of how cold it had become. Before long, my fingers had grown completely numb and my ears felt as if they were about to fall off. The winds didn't exactly help either.

I wasn't complaining, though. Okay, I _was_ complaining, but at least it took my mind off you-know-you becoming a you-know-what. Speaking of the you-know-who and the you-know-what...

"How are you feeling?" Ashley asked quietly. It wasn't exactly quiet; we actually had to talk pretty loudly to be heard over the roar of the wind.

Against my bare skin, the heart-shaped necklace seemed to grow a hundred times colder in response to her words. I resisted the urge to rip it off and lob it down to the muggle village far below...

"What do you mean?" I said.

Ashley sighed. "You don't always have to do that, V."

"Do what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Box away your feelings. Why?"

Because feeling nothing is better than feeling pain. Because if you can't feel, you can't hurt. Because if you don't offer yourself, you can't get turned away.

I didn't say anything, though. I didn't have to; Ashley read it all from the silence.

"Oh grow up," she snapped. "Stop hiding behind the damned wall and come out to see the sunlight. I know you're afraid of being rained on, but it's better than staying cooped up in an imaginary world of perfection, V."

I smiled. "That was strangely deep for you, Ash."

"Why thank you."

"I appreciate the analogy."

"Yeah, I've been working on it for a while." Then, she dropped the light, teasing tone and said, "But seriously."

"All right, all right. Thanks for the life speech, and all, but I just can't deal with Draco right now. Right now, Sirius needs me, and I can't lose both of them in one night."

"Oh hell," grinned Ashley. "Is that what you're worried about? Don't sweat it, V, he'll be fine. There's now ay your godfather could die before you introduced me to him."

I smiled back hesitantly. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better but... you kind of suck at this reassurance thing."

"Of course I do," said Ashley easily. "I'm a heartless bitch."

Suddenly, the thestral changed direction, pointing its head toward the ground. Ashley gave a shriek and slid a few inches along its neck. We were finally descending. And now bright orange lights were grower larger and rounder on all sides. We could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights—though it must be past midnight by now, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, we were hurtling toward the pavement. I was gripping Ashley around the waist so hard that she would've whipped around and punched me right then if she hadn't been afraid that the movement might unseat her. We touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow. Ashley slid off the back and looked around. I followed suit.

A few feet away, Harry was taking in our surroundings. Ron landed a short way away and toppled immediately off his thestral and onto the pavement.

"Never again," he croaked. "Never, ever again... that was the worst."

"Where do we go from here, then?" said Luna in a mild voice.

"Over here," said Harry, leading us over to a telephone box that looked as if its good days were far behind it. "Come on!"

Ron and Ginny marches in obediently; Hermione, Neville, and Luna squashed themselves in after them. The telephone box was completely full. They were packed like sardines.

"How the hell are we supposed to fit in there?" Ashley demanded.

"I dunno," grunted Harry. "Just get in."

"We're supposed to cram ourselves in?" I asked, aghast.

"How many of you guys have taken showers in the last twenty-four hours?" said Ashley, looking just as wary.

"JUST GET IN!" Harry bellowed, and like frightened school children, we scurried into the already packed telephone box.

"Whoever's nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two!" he said as we closed the door behind us.

Ron did it, his arm bent awkwardly to reach the dial. As it whirred back into pace the cool female voice sounded inside the box, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Vanessa Potter, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and—er—what's your name—oh right, Ashley Turner," said Harry. "We're here to save somebody, unless your Ministry can do it first." Just as he finished, the slot at the bottom of the receiver spit out nine badges.

"Hey, there's an extra!" exclaimed Ginny, passing it to Harry.

I read it over his shoulder.

What's Your Name  
Rescue Mission

I would've laughed, but the telephone-box-which-is-really-a-visitor-entrance-lift-thing started to descend and all I could think was:

_It's the beginning of the end. _

_**A/N: **_**hiya, everyone! now... WHO WANTS TO HELP ME PLAN MY VACATIONS? alright, so this is some stuff i got going! (this is a loooong list) **

**Tennesee  
New York  
New Zealand  
New Jersey-Princeton University  
Maryland  
Costa Rica  
Alaska  
Egypt  
Japan  
Mexico  
Brazil  
Korea  
Australia****  
& pretty much all of Europe  
1. Italy  
2. Greece  
3. France  
4. England  
5. Spain  
6. & THE CZECH REPUBLIC! (dont ask why)  
7. oh, i forgot norway! **

**so i checked my story traffic, and i know most of ya'll are US-isians, but a lot of you guys are UK-nians and Australians and New Zealand-ians. AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THOSE COUNTRIES ARE ON MY LIST OF WANNA-GO-TO-PLACES! so gimme recommendations, yeah? if any of you, and i mean ANY OF YOU have been to ANY of these places, send me a message or leave a review. i wanna know what its like. i'm such a dreamer (;**

**has anyone been to UCLA? me & ash went this weekend for some festival. it was the bomb. first time i ever felt i was actually in LA, and i've been living in LA my whole life. prolly because UCLA is located in beverly hills. technically westwood, but whatever. that threw me for a loop, at first. i mean, you'd THINK that University of California Los Angeles is in Los Angeles, but NOOOO. it's not. it's in beverly hills/westwood which is in LA COUNTY, but... what the hell am i talking about? oh well. GO BRUINS!**

**oh shit, this is a long author note, but I GOTTA KNOW! you see, i'm taking my history CST tomorrow, and i was wondering... WHAT DO PEOPLE OUTSIDE THE U.S. STUDY FOR HISTORY? DO THEY STUDY THEIR OWN HISTORY? WORLD HISTORY? DO THEY STUDY U.S. HISTORY AT ALL? i dont mean to sound like a stuck-up american, either. i'm very proud of my asian side, even if i know practically NOTHING of their history (SHI HUANG DI FTW!), i'm honestly curious. we learn world history, too, but we only TOUCHED on european stuff. well, we did a lot of ancient greek, roman, italian stuff last year... & some ancient chinese and japanese stuff. & TONS of african stuff. i dont think we've done australia, though. SO YEAH, don't take offense. i'm just wondering. & HAVE YOU GUYS HEARD OF PATRICK HENRY? "GIVE ME LIBERTY, OR GIVE ME DEATH"? Kind of extreme, dont you think? i think he's a douche-head too (: still, he's a patriot, so MR HENRY, I SALUTE YOU! ...but you're kinda a drama queen (;**

**review, and gimme more pipe dreams! Thailand, anyone? Maybe Vietnam? Zimbabwe? South Africa? Iceland? CMON! **


	17. Perfect Potter Screws Us All

A/N: HEEEEY. Who was the one that asked me to get this out in five days? GrimmjowsGirl? I think so... maybe. I'm too lazy to check right now. Well, IT'S THE FIFTH DAY! (: I MADE IT! (: okay well, I realized that I probably should've made this fic a drama fic... because there's so much drama in it. Sigh... & I read over a few of the beginning chapters. I made so many mistakes -_- can you guys point it out to me next time? I'm starting to reread my chapters after I finish them now, so hopefully there won't be as many mistakes, but still.

**DISCLAIMER: Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator. **

Chapter 17—Perfect Potter Screws Up

The lift clattered to a stop. Because we were closest to the door, Ashley and I promptly toppled out, headfirst. Neville and Ginny followed with little more grace.

"Ouch get off, you're lying on my leg!"

"Get off me, Ginny!"

"Neville, let go!"

We were making so much noise, I was surprised that security didn't come running. Harry shushed us and led us into another, more spacious lift. It, however, made more racket than the previous. I had my wand out as soon as the gates clanged open. There weren't any guards, though. It struck me as rather ominous.

"There isn't any security," Ashley observed. "Strange."

The tiled floors of the Department of Mysteries created echoes; Ashley's words reverberated back to us. _Strange-ange-ange-ange. _

"Quiet," said Harry. "Let's go."

He led the way down the corridor, Luna right behind him, gazing around open-mouthed.

"Okay, listen," said Harry, stopping again within six feet of the door. "Maybe...maybe a couple of people should stay here as a lookout, and—"

"Well how are we supposed to know where you are?" said Ginny, eyebrows raised. "You could be miles away."

"Weaselette's got a point," said Ashley.

Ginny rounded on her. "What did you call me?"

Harry shushed them again.

"We're coming with you, Harry," said Neville.

"Let's get on with it," said Ron.

"Hear, hear!" I chanted in hushed tones.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave me an unnecessary be-serious look; I knew exactly what the consequences would be if we failed.

The door swung open, and we all walked into the large, circular room. Everything was black including the floor and ceiling—identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at exact intervals all around the black walls. I had a feeling Blaise would like this room.

"Someone shut the door," Harry muttered.

The moment Neville complied, the room seemed to grow darker. For a moment, all we could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections in the floor below.

"Oh nice move, genius."

Once the words left Ashley's mouth, there was a great rumbling noise and the candles began to move sideways; the circular wall was rotating. For a few seconds, the blue flames around us were blurred to resemble neon lines. Quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary again.

"What was that about?" whispered Ron fearfully.

"I think it was to stop us from knowing which door we came in from," said Ginny, sounding just as afraid.

"Well shit!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself.

"How're we going to get back out?" said Neville uncomfortably. I couldn't blame him. I honestly didn't fancy staying in this dark, circular room for the rest of my life, either.

"Well, that doesn't matter now," said Harry, although he too sounded worried. "We need to focus on finding Sirius."

"Where next, Fearless Leader?" asked Ashley in a brave attempt at her usual gusto. It was wobbly, though.

"I don't—"he swallowed. "In the dreams I went through the door at the end of the corridor from the lifts into a dark room—that's this one—and then I went thorough another door into a room that kind of... glitters. We should try a few doors," he said quickly, as Ashley rolled her eyes. "I'll know it when I see it."

He marched straight at the door now facing him, the others following close behind him, and pushed. It swung open easily.

After the darkness of the first room, the lamps hanging in this room gave the impression that this long rectangular room was much brighter, though there were no glittering lights as Harry had so accurately described. The center of the room was sunken, forming a great stone pit. On the lowest level some twenty feet below us was a raised stone dais, and upon this dais stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked, and crumbling that it was amazing that the thing was still standing at all. Despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, the veil of the archway was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.

"Who's there?" said Harry sharply, jumping down and approaching the arch.

"Careful!" whispered Hermione anxiously.

I followed after him without a second thought, drawn toward the archway as if I was being pulled in by rope.

"Sirius?" Harry said quietly, as if expecting him to be behind the fluttering veil.

I know it sounded ridiculous, the way he expected someone to be hiding behind the thin veil, but for a curious reason, I felt as though someone were waiting for me behind it. I reached out, intending to brush the curtain aside and see for myself. Ashley grabbed my arm. I looked around at her, startled. Where had she come from?

"Don't touch it," she said, her voice uncharacteristically harsh.

"What are you saying?" Harry said loudly, though he was talking to the stone archway.

"Nobody's talking!" said Hermione, her voice unnaturally shrill.

"Someone's whispering behind there," he said, continuing to frown at the veil. "Is that you, Ron?"

"I'm here, mate," said Ron, appearing around the side of the archway.

"Can't anyone else hear it?" Harry demanded.

"I can," I said softly, just as Luna called out, "I can hear them too. There must be people _in there_."

"What do you mean, '_in there_'?" demanded Hermione. "There isn't any _in there_ it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there. Oh come on, you guys, get away from it." She pulled at Harry's arm, but he resisted. "Harry, we're supposed to be here for Sirius!"

Something must have clicked into his brain just then, and he took several steps backward.

"Let's get out of here. This isn't the right door; we need to try another one..."

So we tried another door, which wouldn't open. It melted the tip of Sirius's knife, too; so much for it being able to open anything.

"I'm sensing a deeper meaning behind all of this," said Ashley uneasily.

Harry pushed open the next door.

"This is it!"

To my complete and utter surprise, the room was indeed glittering, so much so that it hurt my eyes.

"This is it," said Harry again. "It's through here."

I glanced around; everyone had their wands out, suddenly looking anxious and serious. Harry pushed open the door, revealing an enormous room filled with nothing but towering shelves covered in dirty orbs.

"You said it was row ninety seven," whispered Hermione.

Harry nodded, and we proceeded down one aisle, counting as we went. _Eight four... eighty five..._

"Wands out," whispered Harry, as though we were foolish enough to keep our wands stowed away at a time like this.

"Ninety seven!" whispered Hermione.

We all stood grouped at the end of the aisle. There was nobody there.

"He's right down at the end," said Harry, although he himself did not sound too sure, either. "You can't see properly from here." So he led us down the row, continuing to mutter, and "Anywhere here... really close."

But we had reached the end of the row. There was no one here. It was deathly quiet for a moment.

"He might be..." whispered Harry hoarsely, dashing down to peek at another aisle. "Or maybe..." he dashed off to an adjacent alley.

"Sirius?" I called tentatively. "If you're here, now's a good time to show up."

"Harry?" said Hermione.

"What?" It came out as a snarl.

"I-I don't think Sirius is here."

Nobody spoke. Even Ashley had the decency to keep her mouth shut.

Then, Ron said, "Have you seen this, Harry?"

"What?" said Harry eagerly.

We all cluttered around Ron, trying to see what he was gaping at.

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

"What is it?" I said. My voice was shaky. "What's your name doing down here?"

"I'm not here," said Ashley, sounding perplexed. "Why would your name be in a place mine isn't?"

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it," said Hermione as Harry stretched out his hand.

"Why not? It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Yes, but everything's got something to do with you," I pointed out.

Harry ignored me, and curled his fingers around the dusty orb. He gazed at it with such concentration I fully expected something to jump out at him.

Nothing whatsoever happened. I couldn't help but feel a definite sense of anticlimax. I was sure that something dramatic was about to happen. How disappointing.

And then, from right behind us came a drawling voice. "Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Everyone whirled around, but I remained glued to the spot, still staring at the empty space where the orb had been. I forced myself to remain calm. But I failed, and squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about anything at all. I knew exactly who it was, and I couldn't stand turning around and facing him. It was just too much.

"To me, Potter," repeated the drawling voice of Uncle Lucius.

My insides plummeted sickeningly. Internally chastising myself for being such a pussy, I turned around slowly. I registered that we were outnumbered two to one, and that we were desperately trapped. Oh, how I hate Mondays.

Beside me, Ashley had grown completely still, her face drained of color.

"Where's Sirius?" I had meant it to come out strong, but still my voice shook.

Several of the Death Eaters laughed. A harsh female voice in the midst of the shadowy figures spoke out. "The Dark Lord always knows!"

"Always," said Lucius Malfoy, his grey eyes lingering slightly on my face before returning to my brother's. "Now give me the prophecy, Potter."

"I want to know where Sirius is!" I yelled now.

Ashley nudged me hard in the ribs. "Are you completely mental?" she hissed.

"He's here," said Harry. "I know you've got him."

"_The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,_" said the woman in a horrible, mock-baby voice.

All the Death Eaters closed in. Though most of them were hidden behind masks and hoods, I could feel their sneers burning into us. Ron stirred.

"Don't do anything," muttered Harry. "Not yet."

A Death Eater a few feet to Ashley's left let out a raucous chuckle. "Listen to him, giving orders to the other children as if he thinks of fighting us!"

There was something in his voice that caught me by surprise. It was not as low and mature-sounding as Draco's fathers. In fact, it sounded almost...young, as if he were only a few years older than us. I couldn't see his face; most of it was in shadow, but I could imagine it.

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Aiden," said Uncle Lucius softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics, something the Dark Lord knows well."

_Aiden. _I stole a glance at Ashley, whose face was drawn and tight.

"All right, Ash?" said Aiden pleasantly, though the Death Eaters around him jeered and laughed.

I—along with Neville, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Luna, and Hermione—turned to stare at her, disbelief etched on our faces. Ashley opened her mouth, as if to say something. Then, she closed it. For the first time in history, Ashley Turner was speechless.

"Right then," Aiden continued in that same tone, as if we were all old friends who happened across each other. "Be a good girl and help us out, won't you Ash?"

Disbelief turned to betrayal as Ashley looked between Aiden and Harry, apparently conflicted. Then, she turned back to Aiden, her trademark sneer on her face.

"Sure, I'd love to help you out... which way did you come in again?"

We all froze, hands clenched tight around our wands, waiting for the outburst from the Death Eaters. Instead, Aiden laughed.

"Oh, there's my Ashley. I've always loved you for that."

I saw the hope flicker in Ashley's chocolate brown eyes, but then it hardened, and she spit on the ground.

"Don't give me your crap, Aiden Moore. I'm done with it."

He shrugged, and turned to Lucius. "Well that's that plan scuppered."

Hurt flickered again in Ashley's eyes, followed by something of an acceptance. I understood then; the Death Eater's somehow knew that Ashley would be here with us, and they knew that if they used Aiden, they had a chance of winning her over. I had to admit, it was a pretty good plan. The only question is: how did they know she'd be here?

"Hand over the prophecy, Potter," said Lucius coolly, "and no one gets hurt."

Harry gave a harsh laugh. "Yeah, right. I give you this and you'll let us skip off home, will you?"

Harry had barely finished his sentence when the female Death Eater shrieked, "_Accio Proph—"_

But Harry was ready for her. "_Protego!"_

"Oh he knows how to play, little bitty Potter," she said. "Very well then, Potter, if you need more persuasion... Moore, take the other one!"

For half a second, everyone was confused, wondering who she meant by the 'other one'. Then, as the Death Eaters closed in on me, Harry and Ashley simultaneously stepped in front of me.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to get to my sister, or any one of us," said Harry, holding the prophecy to his chest.

"And after you smash the damn thing," said Ashley, glaring solidly at Aiden, "you'll have to get through me."

"When I say go," muttered Harry, loud enough for all of us to hear, "smash balls."

"Getting past you and your group of children will be no difficult task, I assure you," said Aiden coldly.

Ashley puffed up, getting ready to retaliate.

"NOW!"

Seven voices bellowed Reductor curses and their seven jets of light flew in different directions and the opposite shelves exploded as they hit.

"RUN!" Harry yelled as the towering structures began to shower their glass balls upon us.

Ashley was caught by surprise, and for a moment, she could only stand there, gaping. I grabbed her arm and dragged her forward. There were yells and screams all around. I had lost track of Harry, Hermione, or anyone for that matter. All I was aware of were the two Death Eaters behind us, hot on our trail.

Ashley twisted around and shot two stunning spells. Both of them found their targets, and I heard the Death Eaters fall.

"Nice aim!" I shouted.

And in the midst of all the terror and confusion, Ashley grinned.

There was a door straight ahead. I didn't know whether or not it was the right door, nor did I care. I just wanted to get the hell out of this place. We sprinted through the door.

Ashley turned around, pointing her wand at the door. "_Colloportus!_" The door swung shut and sealed itself.

"Where—where the hell is everyone?" I wheezed, clutching at my chest. An all-out spring for my life was something I definitely was not trained for.

"I think we should figure out where we are first."

We looked around, noticing our surroundings for the first time. We were standing in some sort of meadow, filled with sweet-smelling flowers. The sun was shining brightly—though I could swear it was just past midnight—and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Birds were chirping; a stream was trickling nearby; music was alive in the air.

"What the bloody hell is this?" said Ashley, surveying the area with great distaste. She marched up to a tree, dripping with ripe apples. "Apples aren't even in season yet!"

"Looks like something out of a Disney movie," I observed, remembering a scene in Bambit hat had been very similar to this.

"A what?" said Ashley sharply.

"Nothing."

Suddenly, something occurred to me.

"It's happiness," I said, awestruck. "They're studying happiness."

"They're _what_?" said Ashley. "This is supposed to be happiness? It looks like something out of my worst nightmares." A bunny hopped past us, staring innocently up at Ashley. "You see what I mean?" she said, aiming a kick at the creature.

"Well, kind of," I said, scrutinizing a rainbow that I could see at the edge of the horizon. "It's kind of overdone, you know what I mean?"

"No one needs this crap to be happy, anyway," Ashley muttered. "If they got rid of all this rubbish and built an enormous shopping mall, then that's another matter."

I rolled my eyes, then asked, "What makes you happy, Ash?"

"I told you already—shopping."

"Besides that?"

She hesitated. "Well, I love to get my nails done. And I love the feeling I get when I finally understand something that no one else does. I love beating Blaise in every game we play. I love waking up every morning and thinking, 'holy shit, I'm still alive'. I love looking at you guys and realising that—" She cut off abruptly and looked away, blushing. "—that you guys actually care about me. Well, you and Blaise do, anyway. Draco was just—you know."

"A dick?"

She looked and me and smiled slightly. "Yeah, pretty much. Looks like we're in the same boat again, aren't we, V?"

"Yeah," I sighed and sat down in a flower bed, smooshing a couple of pansies. "So that was Aiden, huh?"

Ashley nodded, and to my utter surprise, tears were glistening in her eyes. She wiped them on her sleeve. "Look at us, V. We're having a moment. I never thought it possible for us to have a conversation without ripping each other's throats out."

I stared at her, knowing it was probably rude, but unable to look away. What were you supposed to do when your strongest friend started to cry?

"Ash..."

"Shut up. Just shut up, okay?" she said thickly, turning away so I couldn't see her anymore. "And if you mention this to anyone, I'm going to fucking stab you until you bleed to death, you hear?"

Slowly, Ashley regained her composure again. "Sorry 'bout that."

"About what?" I snorted. "Acting like a human being for once in your life?"

She ignored that. "Just—just remember: you're my best friend, okay?"

"Yeah," I said in surprise. "But don't—"

"Shh!" said Ashley suddenly. "Listen."

Footsteps and shouts echoed from behind the locked door. I heard the voice of Uncle Lucius, barking orders. "Leave Nott—leave him I say! Bellatrix, Rodulphus, you take the left. Jugson, Dolohov, take the door straight ahead. Crabbe, Rabastan, go right. Mulciber, come with me."

Ashley said softly, "Draco's dad, too—"

There was a heavy thud against the charmed door. I ducked behind a hydrangea bush, and motioned wildly for Ashley to get behind the apple tree.

"Stand aside," said a rough voice from the opposite side of the door. "_Alohamora!"_

Ashley was still standing by the door when it swung open, grinning recklessly. She caught the Death Eaters by surprise, punched one of them in the face, and cast the Impediment Jinx on the other. Both recovered in a few seconds and lunged after Ashley. She laughed maniacally and dashed out the door, Death Eaters on her heel.

I stood in the bushes, my wand extended and pointing at a nonexistent enemy. I shook my head, muttering about what an idiot Ashley was, and pelted out the door after them. They were down the hall, at least fifty yards ahead of me. I had raised my wand in hopes of casting a curse, when I heard,

"RON? GINNY? LUNA?"

I swore and changed direction, heading toward the fool that was stupid enough to call out names. It was only when I realised I had passed Row Ninety-Seven again that I knew I was lost. I looked around desperately for a clue as to where the others were. Then, finding none, I changed direction again, hoping to find the door we came through.

There was a jet of red light coming straight toward me. I screamed and ducked just in time. There were two Death Eaters in a row ahead of me. I skidded to a halt.

"_Stupefy_!" I cried.

It was deflected.

"_Avada—_"

"_Descendo!_" I screamed, pointing my wand at the towering shelves in pure desperation.

They began to sway, and both Death Eaters looked up. The voice of Lucius Malfoy shouted, "_Finite_!" and it steadied once more.

I froze at the sound of his voice, stunned again by betrayal. I couldn't help the childish phrase that escaped from my lips.

"Uncle Lucius..."

Lucius Malfoy quickly turned to his companion and Confunded him. Then, as an afterthought, Stunned him.

"Get out of here, Vanessa," he said briskly. "The door is at the end of this row."

And he left, leaving me wondering what the hell that was about.

A/N:

**Zephyr Rosespirit, theamandax3, His Friend Helena :**Hahaha, I like how I had one review telling me to NEVER EVER go to Tennessee, and another saying OMG, GO TO TENNESEE! Okay, well me & ash wanted to go to Tennessee because we wanted to visit a farm =D hehee. & plus it sounds really pretty (: so that's a definite... MAYBE. Lol (:  
**Evie, Alexa-Shmexia, **So... England's a no-no? Damn, and I really wanted to meet Tom Felton, too! Haha sorry, I know that even if I do go I probably won't see him. Just like if you live in Cali, you probably won't see like... Lindsey Lohan or anything. I saw a bunch of limos when I was up in Beverly Hills, though (: Someone said that I shouldn't go to typical tourist spots cause I'd get ripped off... so no Big Ben?

I can't believe no one's been to New Zealand!

**Alexia-Shmexia: **ahahaa, I've been to Japan, too! (: it's really pretty, but no one stared cause I'm Asian too and they probably thought I was a local -_- HAHAHAH. HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE A BLONDE! NONONOO, YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU HEAR?! **JKJKJKJK. **I don't mean to offend (: It's so hilarious how they took lots of pictures of you guys. & you know how you said that your school is mostly blond? I seriously can't imagine that. I mean, I live in Cali and we have a HUGE-O Asian population (I'm one of 'em (= ) and we have some blonds too... & a ton of Mexicans... but I don't know, there's not a lot of them. I seriously think that whites are a minority in Southern California. LOL. I think we have... what, 35 blondes in a school of 1000? HAHAH.

**His Friend Helena: **oooh, you went to Egypt! You lucky ass! Is it really pretty? Did you go to Cairo? Did you see the pyramids? GIMME DETAILS! (:

**Chibi-Kyuubi-Chan, GrimmjowsGirl: **Hello Aussies, my name is Dumb Cali Airhead! (: hahaha, I love how Chibi is like AUSSIE PRIDE! & Grimm is like "I haven't been to this Australia place (cough cough)" HAHAHA. Have some pride, Grimm (: I definitely definitely definitely wanna go to Australia. So... I heard Justin Bieber went to Australia. PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS WENT TO GO SEE HIM! & I heard his manager got sued for causing a stampede. LOL. Or maybe that was in New Zealand...

**LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS! **Now... DID ANY OF YOU GUYS GO TO SEE JUSTIN BIEBER ON HIS WORLD TOUR? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM? Because personally, I have never been to a JB concert but I _would have_... I just never knew that he's already been to LA -_- & if any of you HAVE, then YOU MUST GIVE ME DETAILS!!!!!!

**Ahahah, don't forget to review! **

**Tell me your thoughts on all this crap! (: **

"We Americans are a simple people... but piss us off, and we'll bomb your cities!" (:


	18. Stone Stuff Suck

A/N:

You know, I'm actually very proud of Ashley in this fic. She came out to be much more developed than I thought she'd ever be (:

**DISCLAIMER: Someone who thinks logically provides nice contrast to the real world. **

Chapter 18—

Ashley ran through the Hall of Prophecies like a madwoman, adrenaline spurring her forward. She shot random curses behind her at the collection of Death Eaters chasing her. Jugson, Dolohov, Macnair, Rabastan, Crabbe, and Rodulphus Lestrange. Funny how Aiden and Lucius Malfoy--the two she wanted to see most—were conveniently absent.

There was a staircase straight ahead; Ashley put on a burst of speed. She was three feet from it when something caught her around the ankle, and down she went. There was a roar of triumph from on of the Death Eaters behind.

Ashley directed her wand at the stone staircase. "_Glisseo_!"

The stairs flattened out, leaving a sort of ramp. Ashley pushed off the ground and began to slide down at a great speed. She didn't notice the jet of green light that had just missed her left ear.

At the bottom of the ramp, Ashley began to run again. To where, she had no idea. Vanessa and the others could be miles away by now. While cursing herself for her stupidity, Ashley yanked open a door and pelted through it. Her feet skidded on the slick marble floor of the entrance hall.

Ashley froze, completely surprised. _I took a lift down to the Department of Mysteries_, she reasoned_, and then I slid _down_ a ramp and suddenly end up a mile above where I should have been? _She sighed and shook her head. What was the point of logic and common sense if magic screws everything around, anyway?

Lost in thought, Ashley didn't notice the figure observing her from the shadows until he spoke.

"Fancy seeing you here, Ash," said Aiden.

Her wand was out in a second, as if she were expecting him.

"_Impedimenta_!"

"_Protego_!"

"Come now, Ashley," said Aiden, now with a touch of annoyance. "Let's talk."

"Sorry, I don't speak Lying Dirtbag."

Aiden smiled. "Well I speak fluent sarcasm. Will that do for you?"

Ashley was seized by desire to laugh. It was completely inappropriate, given the circumstances.

"No, I'm afraid not," said Ashley, raising her wand once more.

Aiden eyed it warily. "You're not going to hex me, are you? Do you need me to remind you that it was _I _that taught you all these curses?"

"And it was my natural ability that enabled me to learn them," said Ashley. Her wand was still raised, although she seemed incapable of uttering a spell.

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "I think it was thirty percent natural ability, fifty percent of my fantastic teaching abilities, and twenty percent due to the fact that you wanted to impress me."

"You prat."

Again, Ashley found herself wanting to smile. She gripped her wand tighter and reminded herself that he was the enemy. He had killed Igor Karkaroff, and no doubt many others.

Aiden moved toward her, a gentle expression on his face. Ashley had to command herself to remember what a talented actor he was.

"I've missed you, Ashley," said Aiden softly. "You have no idea what it was like. I missed you every day..."

He took another step forward; Ashley took a step backward. Blaise's face flashed before her eyes.

"Well, it's too bad for you," said Ashley, "I've found someone else."

Aiden stopped, then, a shadow passing over his features. "Who is it?" he asked, abruptly harsh. "It's not the Potter boy, is it?"

"No—"

"Then who?" he persisted. "Don't tell me it's that redheaded kid. No? The round one, then? Don't—don't tell me you're gay," he said, suddenly looking worried.

Ashley did laugh this time at the expression on his face.

"No Aiden, I'm not."

"Well who is it then?" he demanded. "And what's so great about him, anyway?"

Ashley opened her mouth, ready to recite a long list of Why Blaise is the Best Boyfriend Ever, but found that she couldn't find many reasons. So instead, she said, "He cares about me."

"I care about you, too," said Aiden softly, touching her face.

Ashley drew in a sharp breath; she was completely helpless to the raging emotions he was making her feel. It was never like that with Blaise. With Blaise, it was soft and sweet, with a dark undercurrent always present. Because now, staring into Aiden's sapphire blue irises, Ashley found herself wondering whether or not Blaise had been just a distraction from losing Aiden. Now that is really, really messed up.

"Ash, look at me," said Aiden, tilting her chin up.

Ashley froze. They were way too close together. If only Ashley reached a few inches higher, they would be close enough to kiss; a fact that Ashley registered almost right away. She struggled to think through the mind block that had settled in her mind after Aiden's arrival.

"You can't forget what we have."

"I can try," said Ashley with a determined air. "I'll try every day for the rest of my life, and—"

"But why?" said Aiden, pulling away and rubbing his eyes as if he were tired. And he was; Ashley absolutely exhausted him. "What's so wrong about me?"

Ashley shook her head, completely baffled. "Why do you even need to ask that? I mean, look at you. You're a _Death Eater_, Aiden. That's what's wrong."

"It's wrong that I'm living out my dream? It's wrong that—"

"Your dream is to kill innocent people, Aiden? To torture muggles for things they have absolutely no control over? I mean, _really_? And here, I always thought you were the smart one. I guess I never really knew you at all, then."

"Don't say that, Ash," said Aiden, immediately softening. "You knew me better than anyone in the whole world."

"Then why didn't I see this coming?"

"See what?"

"You're _bad_, Aiden, you're _wrong_," said Ashley, exasperated. "Why can't you see that? What in the world do you have to gain from killing innocents?"

"You don't understand," Aiden stated, shaking his head. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand," said Ashley, sounding completely helpless. Just like those pathetic _heads-over-heels _girls. So much for being the strong one.

Aiden ran a hand through his dark hair, looking troubled. Then, without hesitation or warning, he pulled Ashley toward him, kissing her before she could protest. As his lips pressed against hers for the first time since what seemed like an eternity, Ashley felt a soft sigh escape her lips. Any thought of who Aiden had become had completely vanished. She only remembered the Aiden after the Quidditch game, his cheeks flushed with pride and his hair windblown; she remembered Aiden the night of her fifteenth birthday, trying to impress her with muggle magic tricks.

All too soon, it was over and Ashley was faced once again with Aiden, the Death Eater and a horrible guilt bubbling inside her. The decision she was supposed to make lay right in front of her.

She thought of V and the promise lay between them. Though it had never been acknowledged, they both knew the strength and power of their friendship.

_I got your back. _

The problem with trusting someone to always have your back, is that you never know when they're going to turn around and stab you. Ashley's stomach twisted and turned.

As if reading her mind, Aiden asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," said Ashley desperately. "I just don't know."

She thought of Blaise, how her decision would kill him; and Draco, though he turned out to be a traitor in end, he was still her friend—something like that couldn't be erased by a single act. How would he react to her choice?

"I don't know," she said again, though this time it was more of a denial. She knew what she had to do.

* * *

_I worked so hard for that first kiss  
And a heart don't forget something like that_

Like an old photograph  
Time can make a feeling fade  
But the memory of a first love  
Never fades away.

* * *

"Sweet Mother of Shit!" I exclaimed, as I hurled open the door and had nearly run straight into Neville, who was carrying Hermione.

Harry looked up briefly, nodded, and continued his examination of Ginny's ankle, which appeared to be broken. Hermione was in Neville's arms, apparently unconscious. Luna was the only one who appeared to be unhurt. Ron was clinging to Harry, attempting to make conversation through very high pitched giggles.

"We saw Uranus up, close, Harry," he giggled. "You get it? We saw your anus...ha-ha."

"Where's Ashley, Vanessa?" said Neville, struggling with Hermione's weight.

I reached over to help steady him. "Dunno. She ran off somewhere screaming like a madwoman."

"Sounds like something she'd do," said Ginny in a strained voice. Her face had gone completely white.

"Hey Ginny. You don't look so good," I commented.

"Thanks, you look like crap too," she gasped.

"We've got to get out of here," said Harry firmly. "Ness, where's that friend of yours—oh, what does it matter. Luna, can you help Ginny up?"

"Yep," said Luna without hesitation. She put an arm around Ginny's waist to help her up.

"Okay, let's go," said Harry, pulling Ron's shaky figure across the circular room. He had just reached the door when another burst open and three Death Eaters ran into the hall, led by the female, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"_There they are_!" she shrieked.

Stunning spells shot across the room: Harry smashed his way through the door ahead, flung Ron in, and rushed back to help Luna with Ginny. Neville and I were able to struggle into the room with Hermione in tow just in time to slam the door in Bellatrix's face.

"_Colloportus_!" shouted Harry, using the same spell Ashley had when we had been in the Happy Room.

We were in a room, filled with desks. The one in the very center had an enormous tank on it, which—after closer examination—I knew to be brains. _Disgusting_.

"It doesn't matter!" said a man's voice. With an unpleasant jolt, I realized it was Jugson, who Uncle Lucius had introduced me to at the Christmas party. "There are other ways in—WE'VE GOT THEM! THEY'RE HERE!"

"_Colloportus!_" I heard Harry yell again, and as I turned around, I realized there were other doors leading into this room. With a groan, I raised my wand and helped him seal the remaining doors. Every now and then another heavy body would launch itself against one, trying to open it. Luna and Neville stood at the opposite wall, bewitching the doors there. I turned to watch them for a split second, and in that moment, Luna had been running to one of the unsealed doors when it burst open.

"_Collo—aaaargh_!"

She flew across the room, hit a desk, and slid down as unconscious as Hermione. Five Death Eaters surged into the room through the door Luna had not reached in time.

"Get Potter!" shrieked Bellatrix.

For a second, I thought she was charging at me. Then, as I prepared to use an Impediment Jinx on her, she changed direction and headed for Harry; my curse missed her by a good five feet and almost hit Neville.

"Hey!" said Ron, who had staggered to his feet and was now tottering toward Harry, giggling. "Hey, Harry, there are _brains_ in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird, Harry?"

I had been making a mad dash toward Harry and Bellatrix, and the drunken-looking Ron stumbled across my path, completely cutting me off.

"Ron, get out of the way," I said angrily, moving around him. "And get down—"

But Ron had already pointed his wand at the tank.

"Honest, you guys, they're brains—look—_Accio Brain!_"

The scene seemed momentarily frozen. Everyone turned spite of themselves to watch the top of the tank as a brain burst from the green liquid. For a moment, it seemed suspended in midair, then it soared toward Ron.

"Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it," said Ron, watching as the brain sped toward him, disgorging its gaudy innards. "Harry, come on and touch it, bet it's weird—"

"RON, STOP!" yelled Harry, who—like me—had frozen in his pursuit of a Death Eater.

Harry then darted forward toward Ron, but he had already caught the brain in his outstretched hands. The moment they made contact with his skin, the tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron's arms like rope.

"Harry, look what's happen—no—no, I don't like it—no, _stop_—no—"

"_Diffin—_" Harry began. A Death Eater had taken advantage of the distraction and lunged toward him. The prophecy slipped slightly, but Harry managed to slip away and still grab onto the orb. Harry raised his wand again, trying to free Ron, but another Death Eater dived at him. He dodged him, but as other Death Eaters were now approaching him, he was unable to do anything about Ron. So he took the prophecy, and holding it high above his head, sprinted at another door.

"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" screamed Ginny, immobilized by her broken ankle on the floor. A jet of red light flew from one of the Death Eater's wands and hit her squarely in the face. She keeled over sideways and was out like a light.

So it was me and Neville left. Wonderful.

"_STUBEFY!" _shouted Neville through a heavily bleeding nose. It looked as if it were broken.

But all the Death Eaters were gone; they had followed Harry and his prophecy into the other room. I sighed in relief and knelt down beside Ron, who was still struggling.

"You little retard," I sighed, yanking at the tentacles.

"Let—go—let—go—" said Ron.

"That's what I'm trying to do," I grumbled. "Hold still, will you? _Diffindo!_" Ron jerked just as I cast my spell, so that it missed and sliced through his robes, leaving a bloody gash. "_Hold still_, damn your cheese." Ron continued to writhe. Neville sat on his legs and pinned down his shoulders, nodding at me to proceed. I placed my hand in the middle of his chest, holding down the squiggling tentacles. "_Diffindo_!"

It cut this time, though my aim was slightly off, leaving a cut in my thumb. I sucked at it absentmindedly.

"Neville, watch Ron, will you? I need to deal with my asshole of a brother." Just as the words left my mouth, there came a chorus of grating, unpleasant laughter from the other room. I sprinted toward the door that had been left open.

Harry was lying spread-eagle on his back at the bottom of the pit, looking slightly dazed. He appeared to have fallen. I repressed the urge to laugh and give away my position.

"_Petrificus Total—"_

Death Eaters whirled around. The nearest one tackled me and sent my wand flying. He pinned me to the ground, and hit me once across the face, hard. I struggled to throw him off, and reached for my wand. Another Death Eater kicked it away.

_Oh hell, why didn't I use a shorter spell? _

I wriggled in the Death Eater's grip. I freed one hand and used it to punch my captor full in the mouth. The mask cracked and slipped, revealing Rodulphus Lestrange's identity. Although blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth (I was vaguely surprised to see it, and silently congratulated myself on my ability to punch people in severe circumstances), he still didn't relax his grip. In fact, he tightened it even more.

While one part of me was trying desperately to throw this sick, twisted man off of me, the other part registered that the surrounding Death Eaters were hopping from bench to bench to the sunken pit where Harry had scrambled up to his feet.

"Your race is run, Potter," said Uncle Lucius as I tried to knee my attacker in the you-know-where. "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy."

"Let—let the others go and I'll give it to you!" said Harry desperately.

Several Death Eaters laughed, including Rodulphus Lestrange. His body shook slightly with his laughter, and as his knees were positioned on my arms, it didn't exactly make me any more comfortable.

"Dude, get off!" I yelled in a futilely. If yelling was the key, I would've been free a long time ago.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," a Death Eater said to Harry. "You see, there are ten of us and only one of you... Unless you count Vanessa, but then again, no one ever has."

They laughed again, igniting a rage in me so powerful it caused Rodulphus Lestrange to... nothing. My unrestrained fury didn't result in anything but a few more bruises and a higher blood pressure.

"They're bot alone!" shouted a voice a few feet behind me. "They've still god be!"

Neville started hopping along the benches in an attempt to reach Harry. My groan of frustration was extinguished when I discovered that Neville had kicked my wand into grabbing range.

I gave the Death Eater a fierce shove, scrambled to my feet, and almost fell over again trying to reach my wand. I pointed it straight at Lestrange.

"_Stupe_—SHIT!"

Another Death Eater grabbed me from behind and lifted me off my feet. My legs flailed wildly as I screamed profanities to the heavens. I saw one of the Death Eaters look up in vague annoyance. Next to him, something similar had happened to Neville.

The largest Death Eater had seized him from behind. Neville struggled and kicked in a fashion similar to mine—without the swearing. The Death Eater holding me swung my legs up, in a mock-bridal position and carried me down to the pit. I made several unsuccessful attempts to punch his nose in.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" I heard Uncle Lucius sneer as we came closer and closer. "Your grandmother is used to losing family mothers to our cause... Your death will not come as a great shock."

"Longbottom?" repeated the female Death Eater—Bellatrix Lestrange. A truly evil smile lit up her face. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy..."

"I DOE YOU HAB!" roared Neville, kicking and flailing so violently that someone yelled to Stun him.

"No, no, no," said Bellatrix. She looked positively delighted. "No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents... Unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy...?"

"DON'D GIB IT DO DEM! DON'D GB ID DO DEM, HARRY!"

Bellatrix raised her wand. "_Crucio!_"

Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to the ground, twitching and screaming in agony.

"Neville!" I screamed, thrashing in my captor's arms. "Let him go, let him go!"

"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. "How, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your sister be tortured alongside your friend this time."

She directed her wand at me. I stiffened, anticipating the agony that Neville had been forced into, but it didn't come. Harry held out the prophecy, and Draco's dad jumped forward to take it.

Then, high above us, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley."

The Death Eaters turned and raised their wand; Tonks sent a Stunning Spell right at Uncle Lucius. The Death Eater holding me released his grip on me to extend his wand, and I took the opportunity to knock it out of his hand, and Stun him. A jet of red light just barely missed me, and I yelped and dived off the dais like Harry had, seconds before me. I nearly landed on him.

"Are you okay?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches over our heads.

"Yeah," Neville and I said in unison. I helped him up.

"And Ron?"

"I dink he's all right—he's still kind of dazed, but Vabessa bot him free."

The stone floor between us exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where my leg had been seconds before Harry had yanked me to my feet. We scrambled from the spot, and from the corner of my eye, I saw a burly Death Eater grab Harry around the neck and pull him up so that his feet were barely touching the ground.

I whipped out my wand, about to cast a spell when Neville launched himself at the Death Eater and jabbed a wand hard into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask.

"Thanks!" Harry said to Neville, grasping his hand in a classic boy-handshake. Sirius and a Death Eater lurched past us, dueling so fiercely that their wands were blurs. I took a step toward them, and slipped on something slippery and round. As I regained my balance, I saw Moody's magic eye spinning away across the floor.

Its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker—Avery and Dolohov—were now bearing down on us, their pale faces twisted with glee.

"_Tarantallegra!"_ Dolohov shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frienzied tap dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall again.

At the same time, Avery directed a Jelly-Legs Jinx at me, and I wobbled around unstably for a moment before crashing onto the stone floor. My legs still continued to jiggle despite my attempts to hold them still.

"Now Potter," said Dolohov quietly, now approaching Harry. "_Accio Proph—_"

Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. Now Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying. Harry performed the counter-curse on me and my legs ceased wiggling. I sprang up and caught Dolohov in a Full Body-Bind Curse. As he keeled over backward and landed with a crash, I shouted, "That's for the Jelly-Legs, you little—"

"Nice one!" shouted Sirius, coming toward me and Harry and mussing up our hair. "Now I want you two to get out of—"

We ducked. A jet of green light flew between where Sirius and Harry's heads had been. Across the room, Tonks fell from halfway up the steep stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat, and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back toward the fray.

"Harry, take the prophecy, watch Vanessa, grab Neville, and run!" Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. I was dimly annoyed at Sirius for telling Harry to watch me, as if I were some misbehaving child, but I brushed it off.

I looked up at where Sirius and Bellatrix were dueling, and raised my wand, eager to get a shot in. But they were dueling so ferociously that any attempt to hex Bellatrix was more likely to hit Sirius. So I turned, intending on helping Harry and Neville, when I saw that Draco's dad was crouched over Harry, his wand in between Harry's ribs.

I was stunned for a moment, though I shouldn't have been. What did it matter that he had helped me find the way out, anyway? He was a Death Eater at heart. I raised my wand, and yelled, "_Impedimenta!"_

He was blasted off his back, and smashed into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were still dueling. Uncle Lucius looked at me, shock imprinted on his face. It was soon replaced by determination, and he aimed his wand at me. But before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin jumped between us.

"Vanessa, get Harry and round up the others, and just _go!_"

I saw Harry attempting to heave Neville up the stone steps, but his legs were still jerking and twitching violently and wouldn't support him. Harry thrust the prophecy into Neville's pocket as I rushed toward them—apparently he needed both hands to haul Neville the steps.

A spell hit the stone bench at Neville's heel, and he lost what little balance he had. Harry, trying to keep him from falling, pulled too hard, and Neville's robes split at the seams. The small, glass orb dropped from his pocket and before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kick it. It flew straight toward me, and I dived at it in an effort to catch it. It landed and shattered against the hard floor before I could reach it, but even then I couldn't stop my momentum. I hit my head hard on the same stone bench that had broken the prophecy.

Everything drifted out of focus for a moment. I held my hand to my throbbing temple, and was distantly surprised to find that it was wet with blood.

"Ouch..." I murmured.

Then, I collapsed and everything went black.

**A/N: hi, everyone! well someone said to get this out in a week... again i forgot who it was, but at least i got it out! anyway, i'm going to Northern Cali tomorrow, which is why i kinda had to squish this in. and plus, my dad's trying to get me to watch forbidden city with him. so i gotta go now. i'll talk to ya'll next time! (: **


	19. Thought We Knew Him

**A/N: hiya! (: anyone miss me? thanks to my... 3 reviewers. LOL (: you guys pretty much rock, though. i got a lot of Story Alerts and Fave Stories, though. That's pretty cool. FOR YOU GUYS THAT FAVORITED ME, I'D LIKE TO HEAR FROM YOUU. just an fyi. (:**

**DISCLAIMER: are you talking? did i give you permission to talk? **

Chapter 19—Thought We Knew Him

When I woke up, I wasn't exactly comfortable. My head hurt like hell, I was lying on the floor, and there the people near me were practically yelling, which didn't help with the whole headache thing. It took a while for the room to come into focus, but when it did, I realized that we were still in the Department of Mysteries, though most of the Death Eaters were gone. There was also someone kneeling over me, dabbing a liquid at the gash in my head. It stung.

The yelling lowered down to a quiet murmur. I saw a blur of black, messy hair.

"Nessie?" said Harry, his voice low and anxious. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," I muttered, trying to sit up. I felt lightheaded and dizzy. "What happened?"

There was Cornelius Fudge next to Harry and Lupin, who both had the look of someone who had experienced way too much in too short of a time. Ron seemed to have recovered from his giddy-spell, although he was still enormously pale. Ginny's ankle appeared to have been fixed, and Hermione and Luna had regained consciousness. Neville's nose had been fixed, as well.

Lupin and Harry exchanged a look that filled me with a sense of dread for a reason I couldn't even explain to myself.

"What happened?" I asked again, more urgently. "Tell me what happened!" I tried to get to my feet, but a wave of vertigo hit me and I swayed and almost toppled back over. Harry reached out to steady me, but he still didn't tell me anything.

"Tell me!" I demanded, looking around at Ron, who shook his head and looked away. I turned to Ginny, who bit her lip and looked as though she were going to cry.

"It's Sirius," she said softly. "He's dead."

Before her words could really click into my head, another wizard—probably a Ministry official—approached me.

"We've found another body," he said in a gravelly voice. "It's been identified as—"

"Stop," said Harry suddenly. "She's fragile enough as it is right now. She hit her head and probably has a concussion right now. She doesn't need anymore to deal with."

"Who is it? Who...I have a right to know!" I shouted. "And I do not have a concussion!" I looked around the room. Neville, Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all there. So were Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and Kingsley. The only ones missing were Sirius and...

Ashley.

"No," I said, shaking my head in a flat denial. "No. Harry—Harry, where's Ashley? Why isn't she here?"

He didn't say anything.

Lupin put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vanessa. I know it must be hard, losing them both in one night."

My shoulders shook with grief, and tears began to flow in memory of my best friend and the godfather I haven't spent nearly enough time with. It was fair, it just wasn't—

"We need to go," the deep voice of Kingsley broke through the haze of tears. "It's nearly five in the morning, and they haven't slept since the night before. Surely, these kids need sleep."

None of us said anything, but I knew we were all thinking the same thing. We had lost two of our number tonight. The last thing on our mind was sleep. But everyone nodded anyway, and headed toward the grates, ready to Floo to Hogwarts.

"Are you sure we can get in?" asked Harry. "I mean, the fires are being monitored, aren't they?"

Fudge smiled wryly. "They are being monitored by the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Potter. I am the Minister of Magic. One thing the Death Eaters did not count on tonight was our sudden change of heart. If they were planning to keep you away from Hogwarts by restricting the Floo Network, then that plan has most certainly failed."

Harry nodded, stepped into the emerald green flames and shouted, "Hogwarts!"

Someone rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, expecting Lupin, but instead found Kingsley.

"I know you're upset right now," he said gently. "But that head wound of yours is only going to get worse if you don't get some sleep. I know it doesn't seem like a very inviting idea, but trust me on this..."

I nodded, followed Ron into the grate, and reappeared in Professor McGonagall's office. It was empty.

Bangs and shouts could be heard from outside the office door. With an unpleasant jolt, I realized that the Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts as well. In the back of my mind, I wondered how they had managed this, and came up with the conclusion that they must have been planning this for a while. Then, I pushed the thought away and dashed out the door after Ron. Distantly, I thought I heard Kingsley calling me, but I didn't glance back to check. These people needed me.

Right outside the office, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchey—still in pajamas—were dueling a masked Eater. As he was easily a match for the two of them, I darted in, forgetting to take advantage of the element of surprise, and aimed a hex at him.

"Nice one!" said Justin approvingly, as my hex sent the Death Eater sprawling.

Just as the words left his smiling lips, a flash of light flew past us and hit him square in the chest. He collapsed.

As Ernie crouched down see whether he was all right, he forgot to watch his back, and another hex sent him flying across the corridor. I looked around frantically for the attacker, but there were so many battles and flashing lights, I didn't know which way to turn. A streak of white—or was it blond? white-blond, anyway—caught my eye, and I looked up just in time to see Snape and Draco sprinting across the hall, stepping over bodies and dodging flashes of light. For a moment, I was too stunned to do anything, then an unrestrained fury broke out inside me.

He was the one that caused all this, I thought furiously. He's the reason why Ashley and Sirius are—

I broke away from the unconscious bodies of Ernie and Justin without a second thought and tore after them, pushing aside both Death Eaters and students in my attempt to get at them. The only thing going through my head was that they had caused it, and they were going to pay.

I ran across the hall and burst out through the door and out onto the grounds. I didn't know where I got my speed from, only that I was being propelled forward at a pace faster than I've ever gone before. Why the hell couldn't I do this at the big race in primary school? From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry closing in. We were going to corner them, I realized.

Harry shot a Stunning spell at Snape, which just missed and passed over his head.

"Run, Draco!" said Snape, turning to my brother.

But before he could get more than a few steps away, I tackled Draco the ground. We wrestled and tumbled and rolled down the uneven ground as I tried to connect my fist with his nose.

"Vanessa," he gasped. "Stop!"

"Like hell I will," I snarled, then yelped as he rolled on top of me, pinning my arms above my head.

"You don't understand."

"Get the hell off of me!" I yelled, struggling against his weight. He pressed me down harder.

"Listen to me—"

One of his hands slipped, freeing one of my flailing arms and catching him by surprise. We rolled over again and this time, I was the one pinning him to the ground.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore, Draco—"

I didn't see it coming. I really didn't see it coming. But the next thing I knew, I was being blasted off of Draco's body with a Full Body-Bind Curse. My arms and legs were curled in awkward positions and I knew that once someone cast the counter-curse on me, my back would be aching like hell.

Draco's eyes widened and he looked around for his savior. Amycus Carrow pulled him roughly to his feet, and together they sprinted toward the gate. Once they got past it, I knew they'd be able to Disapparate. And then they'd escape. No! I knew, even as I struggled hopelessly against the curse, that I'd never be able to stop them even if I was able to break out of this curse within the next five seconds. So I was forced to watch in silence as the Death Eater pulled Draco out of the protective barriers surrounding Hogwarts. Draco's eyes locked with mine a second before he disappeared. Too much of his face was hidden in shadow for me to decipher the expression in them, but I knew that if I could see his eyes, they would show nothing much triumph.

* * *

I don't remember anyone performing the counter-curse on me, which probably meant I passed out before the battle was over. Now, lying in a crinkly bed in the hospital wing, I wondered what I must've looked like to my liberator. My eyes must've been wide and staring, and my legs and arms and resembled a curled-up cockroach's. I shuddered slightly.

"She lives!"

I looked to my right, and found Blaise walking toward me, a huge grin on his face.

"I've been wondering if you'd ever come around. Say... Have you seen Ash or Draco anywhere?"

I stared at him. How could he not know the news? The news... Tears clogged the back of my throat, making me unable to speak for a moment.

"What—What day is it?" I finally managed to croak.

"Man, you're out of it," said Blaise, still all smiles. "It's the last week of June, the last week of school, V! They've cancelled the O.W.L.s because of... well, you know, the battle and stuff. Oh yeah, and Dumbledore's dead, too." He said it flippantly, as if he didn't really care, but that was another blow to my heart. Another dead. Sirius, Ashley, and now Dumbledore. Who else had died because of Draco? As if sensing how I felt, Blaise said quickly, "Hey, don't worry about it. He's the only one. Well, Colin Creevey's at St. Mungo's for a minor deformation and Angelina Johnson spent a night in the hospital wing for a couple of fractured ribs... and some kid named Terry Boot dislocated his shoulder, but that's about it. The rest of us just spent a couple hours at most in the hospital wing." His brow furrowed. "Though I really haven't been able to find Draco and Ashley _anywhere_. Do you think they got hurt or something...?"

"Ashley's dead," I said through numb lips.

Blaise's smile slipped off his face. "What do you mean?" When I didn't say anything, Blaise slammed his fist against the iron railing of the hospital bed. "Damnit, V. She can't be dead. I mean—" I could have sworn he wiped at his eyes. "She just can't be. She's _Ashley_."

I ignored him and stared up at stone ceiling.

"What about Draco?" Blaise persisted. "I mean, he's not—you know—is he?"

"No. He's with Snape right now."

For a moment, Blaise looked confused. Then comprehension dawned on his face. "But Snape is—Oh. You mean Ashley was right?"

"I guess."

Blaise shook his head. "Nobody mentioned any of this—about Ashley, or about Draco. I mean, I kinda _thought_, you know, in the office when Draco attacked that Creevey kid, but I kind of figured he misfired, or was Confunded, or Imperio-ed, or something, you know? Hey—that's not a total impossibility. Maybe he's acting under the Imperius Curse, V. Maybe he's still on our side after all."

"You still are on our side then, Blaise?" I asked quietly.

"Well, yeah. _Duh_, V. What did you think I'd do? Join the Dark Side?" He snorted. "Not likely, V. Way too much work for my taste. I'd always thought Draco was too lazy to be a Dark Wizard, anyway, which again brings up the possibility of being under the Imperius Curse..."

"His dad's a Death Eater too, Blaise," I pointed out. "And we all thought we knew Draco..."

Blaise closed his eyes, leaned back, and groaned. "You know, this all sucks royal poo, V."

"I know."

* * *

**A/N: AOSIKWLEADSMASEOWAIELKASASDASDASLDLSAD. i think this story is gonna be more drama-y and more angsty than i planned, but i swear i'll make it bearable. i hate when authors overdo it and make it last, what, 20 chapters? Exaggeration, but it sure feels like it. ANYWAY. i'm not sure what to do anymore. i started writing an original fic for fun, and i got really caught up in it. i swear i'll still update weekly, though. still not sure what the hell i'm supposed to do after this chapter, so inspiration would be nice (: **

**REVIEW, ANYONE? who's excited for the end of the school year? TEEHEE i have my promotion ceremony in a couple weeeks! (: & PROM! OMG (: review, anyway! (: **


	20. Traitor, Conspirator, Turncoat, Spy

A/N: hiya! (: don't kill me for this chapter, okay? I love Ashley, despite everything. You know love can make you do really stupid things. (:

**DISCLAIMER: Your enemies never hurt you, but your friends can kill you. **

Chapter 20—Traitor, Conspirator, Turncoat, Spy, that's all I am.

Ashley sat in the spacious lounge of the Moore Manor, reading the Daily Prophet. Some of the other big, bad Death Eaters were in the other room, probably discussing their plan for world domination, and of course, Ashley was strictly forbidden. She guessed they didn't trust her completely, and why would they? She had been fighting against them since the beginning, and then all of a sudden, she comes onto their side. Ashley wasn't completely sure if she was on their side, actually. Sometimes they just seemed like a bunch of rude, dirty adults, and Ashley couldn't imagine why someone like Aiden—who reveled in cleanliness—would even allow them into his house.

Ashley rustled the newspaper, and a headline jumped out at her, along with a picture of a stately looking wizard in a top hat and unibrow.

_**O.W.L.s at Hogwarts, CANCELLED?**_

_In light of recent events—the death of Albus Dumbledore, the betrayal of Severus Snape, Potions master, and several injuries to students—the Directors of Education has been debating on whether or not to cancel the career-determining O.W.L. exams for the fifth year students, and the N.E.W.T.s for the seventh years. _

"_We've decided," announced Chairman Arthur Collins, "that although students may be devastated by the death of their beloved headmaster and such, the examinations are simply too important to cancel. For a while, we debated on postponing the tests until term starts next year, but we determined this is the best option for these grieving students."_

Ashley snorted and flipped the page without finishing the article. _Best option for these grieving students, my ass_, she thought. _Oh, poor V... and Blaise... they need to go through these examinations... and they don't even have me to cheat off of. Their futures are in the toilet. _

_**Scrimgeour Succeeds Fudge**_

_**Malfoy Name in Shambles**_

"_Well it's their fault they got caught in the first place," Aiden had said, rummaging in his fridge and tossing a can of spray cheese in Ashley's direction._

"_Thanks," she said, opening her mouth wide and squirting the can-able cheese in. Then said thickly, "But aren't you worried about them at all? I mean, they're supposed to be your friends, aren't they?"_

_He shrugged, wiping some excess cheese off the corner of my mouth. "Gross, Ash. And anyway, I wouldn't say we were exactly _friends_. Co-workers, more like."_

_Ashley frowned, fiddling with the can with overdone casualness. "Well, at school Draco seemed like a really nice guy. Do you... um, do you happen to know why—"_

_Aiden laughed. "We all seem like nice guys, Ash. I mean, Macnair works for the Ministry, doesn't he? And Malfoy used to be an '_asset to society_' according to the Ministry and Prophet_."

_**Muggle Studies Teacher Charity Burbage Resigns**_

_**Disappearance of Ministry Official **_

The door opened then, and Aiden, along with half a dozen Death Eaters walked out, looking buoyant and somewhat happy in a way that made Ashley's stomach turn. She stood up. Half the Death Eaters leered at her.

"Everything okay?" said Ashley casually, sticking her hands the jeans that she had bought in some muggle boutique down the street, much to Aiden's disapproval.

Aiden smiled brightly, reminding Ashley strongly of the time when he had won the Quidditch school championships for his team. "Perfect."

"Moore," said a big, blonde Death Eater that looked a lot like Vanessa's cousin, Dudley, whom she had only seen in photographs, "Get moving. We've got to get to the Malfoy Manor by eight, and they've cast a charm preventing Apparition within a kilometer of that fancy-assed estate of theirs."

"Can I come?" said Ashley without thinking.

Seven pairs of eyes turned onto her, and Ashley felt herself blush deep red. "Now why in the name of the Dark Lord himself would we take you with us?" said a Death Eater softly, making it sound even more menacing than the rumble of the blond Death Eater.

Besides Aiden and a dark-haired Death Eater near the back of the group, all of them laughed.

"No," said the dark-haired one. _Was his name Travers?_ Ashley wondered. "Let her come. We have the muggle-studies teacher held captive there right now. Perhaps it would be... _ah... _enlightening for her to see what it is like."

The Death Eaters went quiet, apparently pondering this. After a moment or two, most of them grumbled their agreement. Aiden didn't look particularly happy about that.

"All right, we're going to Apparate to that rural town that they live by," said the big, blonde one, "From there, we'll have to walk. Any attempts to escape are futile. We will track you down." His pudgy blue eyes lingered on Ashley for a few seconds.

"Relax, Rowle," said Aiden, wrapping his arm around Ashley in an affectionate gesture that was also clearly possessive. "Ash can't Apparate yet. I'll take her along with me by Side-Along."

The walk to Malfoy manor was absolutely_ exhausting_. Yes, it was only one kilometer; Yes, Ashley is completely out of shape.

They approached an intricately designed wrought-iron gate that looked completely impenetrable. Ashley started to ask how they were going to get through, but held her tongue, knowing that stupid questions like that had gotten others killed.

Travers waved his left hand in the air. For a moment, nothing happened, and Ashley thought he looked rather foolish with his arm extended like that. But then the gates swung open, and Ashley, Aiden, and the six other Death Eaters set across the grounds at a brisk pace.

Light spilled onto the neatly trimmed lawn, framing the slender figure of Narcissa Malfoy. She led them into the grand marble foyer, pausing only a second to give Ashley a strange look.

The drawing room was full of silent people all sitting at one long table—probably made of mahogany, or cherry, or some other expensive wood that no one would care enough to buy. Every one of the room's occupants looked up at the newcomers' arrival. There were familiar faces here. The Dark Lord's glistening white face sat at the head of the table, gazing up at her with terrible red eyes. Ashley felt a shudder run down her back.

Snape was seated on his immediate right, and Ashley felt a sting of betrayal from her old Head of House, until she remembered that they were—supposedly—on the same side now. On the Dark Lord's left hand side was Bellatrix Lestrange, who Ashley recognized from the Department of Mysteries battle only a few days ago. Belltrix raised an eyebrow when she, too, recognized Ashley, but said nothing else. All along the table, she saw the incarnations of various wanted posters and newspaper articles, but one period especially caught her eye—Draco.

He was positively gawking at Ashley, his eyes bugging and his mouth hanging open. A spark of amusement tilted Ashley's lips upward as she envisioned snapping a picture of the shell-shocked Draco and showing V. Then she remembered that her Vanessa now thought that she was dead. Now, pausing to think for a second, Ashley wondered if her best friend would hate her for being a Death Eater, or if she'd be happy she was alive at all. _Probably the latter_, Ashley reasoned. _After all, she is my best friend._

A high, cold voice pierced the silence, making Ashley jump. "Who is this, Moore?"

Aiden stood up. His hands were shaking slightly where he gripped the table. "Ashley Turner, my lord. She wishes to be a future recruit."

Ashley turned to him in alarm. _What? No, I don't. I just came here to see Draco. _

The Dark Lord twisted his wand between his long, pale fingers, gazing up at Ashley with that mild curiosity that put her senses on high alert. He said slowly," Interesting."

He watched her for another moment or two. Ashley remained perfectly still, like a bird in the shadow of a snake. Then, the Dark Lord turned to Snape, as if he had forgotten completely about her.

"So?"

"My Lord," said Snape, "They intend to have the wedding on the first of August, a day after the Potter boy's birthday."

"And will Harry Potter be in attendance?"

"No, My Lord. Both he and his sister will either have already gone into hiding or will be heavily disguised at the wedding by means of Polyjuice Potion."

Ashley was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure of whether or not she was supposed to be here. Voldemort hadn't killed her yet, so that was definitely a plus. Aiden caught her eye and motioned for her to sit down. She quickly complied.

Voldemort said, "And you obtained this information from—"

"—from the source was discussed," said Snape, holding the Dark Lord's gaze.

"My Lord," said a man that Ashley also recognized from the Department of Mysteries, "If the Potter girl is not present as Snape says, then who..."

"The Weasley girl," said Peter Pettigrew, who had just shuffled into the room timidly. "We can use her. According to Draco" –Ashley shot Draco a look that he didn't return—"her and Potter have started to date."

The Dark Lord stared at him. Wormtail turned bright red and muttered something inaudibly.

"The Weasley girl..." he said slowly. "Ginerva Weasley, am I correct?"

"Yes, My Lord," Wormtail squeaked, staring at his grimy feet against the Malfoy's refined wood floor.

Voldemort, Snape, and the Lestranges launched into a plan so complex that Ashley couldn't understand a word of it besides, _'of', 'the' 'it' _and '_and'_. Actually, even Aiden looked like he was having a hard time keeping up.

She tried for a few more seconds, then gave up and let her eyes wander around the room from the obviously expensive furniture pushed carelessly to the side, to the gleaming crystal chandeliers and the human shaped figure revolving slowly around it, to the—

_Wait, what?_

Ashley tilted her head up and narrowed her eyes, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the almost-nonexistent lighting in this room.

"Well Yaxley?" Voldemort called down the table, causing Ashley to start again. "Will the Ministry have fallen by the first of August, a mere six weeks from now?"

Across the table, Yaxley squared his shoulder. "My Lord, I have good news on that element. I have—with great difficulty and after great effort—succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse on Pius Thicknesse."

Many of those around him nodded their approval or made noises indicating that they were impressed. Beside Ashley, Aiden was doing both.

"It is a start," said Voldemort. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimegeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"Yes—My Lord, that is true—but you know, as Head of Magical Law enforcement, Thicknesse has not only contact with the Ministry himself, but also..."

Ashley just barely suppressed an eye roll and tried to cover the jerk of her head by swiveling her head up to stare—again—at the revolving body.

_I was right_, Ashley thought without triumph, without any particular emotion at all, _they _are _talking about world domination. And there is groveling for the evil mastermind's attention, too. I don't understand what's so special about this... I can see all of this at any old parent-teacher conference. _

All through Yaxley's pathetic attempt at approval and Bellatrix's sickening ass-kissage, Ashley's eyes remained fixed overhead, though she could feel the familiar grey eyes darting over at her every few seconds, she didn't lower her gaze to meet them. Quite suddenly, the figure came to life with a little moan and began to struggle against the invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort.

Ashley glanced at him from across the table. He lifted his eyes to the upside-down face. As she revolved to face the head of the table, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

"Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort. Draco shook his head jerkily, and Voldemort turned to Ashley. She had a pretty good idea who it might be, but decided it was wiser not to say so. She shook her head.

"But you two would not have taken her classes," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes... Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles... how they were not so different from us..."

One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Ashley saw Narcissa Malfoy cringe as the saliva landed on her posh oriental rug. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again.

"Severus... please... please..."

"Silence," said Voldemort, and with a twitch of his wand, Charity Burbage fell silent, as though she had been gagged. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the _Daily Prophet_. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance... She would have us all mate with Muggles... or no doubt, _werewolves_." Briefly, Voldemort turned his gaze on Bellatrix, who flushed instead of looking proud for a reason Ashley couldn't possibly comprehend, as she had no knowledge of the recent marriage between Remus Lupin and Nyphadora Tonks.

For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape. She was crying now, tears pouring from her eyes and into her hair. Snape looked back at her, expressionless, as she turned slowly away from him again.

"_Avada Kedavra_._"_

The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity Burbage fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Ashley didn't know whether her reaction was more embarrassing, or Draco's. She jumped so badly that her chair had toppled over, leaving her curled on the ground with her legs over her head. Draco fell out of his and onto the ground, looking pale and shaken. Aiden gripped her hand, and pulled her back up, his lips tight as if he were trying not to laugh.

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood.

"Ash, let's go." Aiden stood in the doorway of the Malfoy Manor, looking back at her expectantly.  
She hovered in the foyer, and looked back at Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, who were watching her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Ashley took a step in Aiden's direction, then decided against it.

"One second," she called to Aiden, whose eyes widened in surprise as Ashley darted forward and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him into an adjacent storage closet before he could protest.

"What the hell," exclaimed Draco, pushing Ashley off of him and to the far corner of the surprisingly spacious closet.

"We need to talk."

"In a storage closet?" Draco said incredulously. When Ashley remained silent, he scoffed and opened the door. Both his mother and Aiden were staring at them, bewildered. "If you wanted to talk, Ash, we can go into the other room, not a fucking _storage closet_." Then to his mother, he said, "Can you give us a moment?"

She nodded and motioned for Aiden to follow her into the dining room. "Would you like some tea, Aiden?"

Draco led her down a hallway and through a door, revealing a room which was probably the smallest and most simply furnished in the entire mansion, but was considerably larger than any Ashley had ever lived in. He sank into an overstuffed armchair reminiscent of the Slytherin common rooms, and with a nostalgic pang, Ashley followed suit.

"What are you doing here?" said Draco immediately.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "We sure like to beat around the bush, don't we, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Cut the crap," he said sharply. "What the hell are you doing here? I saw an obituary in the _Daily Prophet _for you, written by one of the Hogwarts staff, praising you for all your academic bullshit and saying how you died in the Department of Mysteries."

"So?"

"You're not dead."

"Dude, no shit?" Ashley said sarcastically. "Glad you're here to enlighten me. Don't know what the fuck I'd do without you."

Draco gave Ashley a reproving look. "Answer my question: What are you going here?"

"You've gotten bossier since the last time I saw you two weeks ago," Ashley said leisurely, propping her foot up against the bedside table and knocking over a flower vase. She didn't bother to repair it when it smashed against the floor.

"Last time I saw you," said Draco, his eyes narrowing, "Vanessa was your best friend."

"Yeah well, last time I saw you, you loved her," retorted Ashley. "But it seems like people change."

"You would know."

"Yeah, actually I would. I know many things actually, and the fact that people change are among them."

"Care to enlighten me with your limitless knowledge then, Turner?"

"Sure, Malfoy."

"_Why are you here_?"

"Ah, back to square one," said Ashley, sighing dramatically.

Draco stood abruptly, pushing his wand against the bridge of Ashley's nose. She didn't flinch.

"I don't like you," he said coldly. "I never liked you."

"Oh, don't kid yourself," Ashley snorted, pushing his hand away. "Of course you liked me. Isn't that why you let me into your little gang, why you let me into your house, why you confided in me?"

"You're up to something, I know you are. You're not on our side."

Ashley looked at him evenly. "And which side are you on, Draco?"

He opened his mouth furiously, then closed it, looking confused and a bit like the goldfish Aiden had given to her for Christmas two years ago.

"We're in this together, Draco," said Ashley softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Neither of us belongs here, with the Death Eaters. _You know that_," she said firmly as Draco opened his mouth to disagree. "We're kids. We're not evil. You're going to go back to V, Draco."

He looked away. "I can't. She hates me. And can't go back either," he said, turning on her again. "You're supposed to be dead, not a Death Eater. She'll hate you too once she finds out."

Ashley was quiet.

"And what the hell is up with Aiden Moore?" he demanded. "I thought you fancied Blaise." Again, she didn't say anything. Draco said angrily, "My best friend, Ashley! You lied to him?"

"I didn't mean to," she said quietly.

"Oh, you didn't mean to. Just like you didn't mean to betray your closest friends and—"

"You filthy hypocrite!" she yelled. "You betrayed them just as much as I did. We're in the same boat now, damnit. Stop pinning everything on me. We have to stick together!"

"What's sticking together going to do us any good," said Draco sulkily, "When we're up against the most powerful Dark wizard of all time?"

"You'd be surprised," said Ashley wisely. "You know what Vanessa says, two heads are better than one. And one incredibly brilliant head and one average head are even better than that."

Draco pretended to blush. "Oh, stop it, stop it. I know I'm incredibly brilliant, but all this flattery..." He began to fan himself, imitating Parkinson when she got worked up.

Ashley laughed and swatted at him. "I was talking about _my_ incredibly brilliant mind, you fag."

**A/N:ahh... witty banter between friends turned enemies turned friends. (: did you guys like it? (: leave a review, and crap! Crap is very much appreciated (; **


	21. Three Weeks, Six Days, Nine Hours

A/N: anyone hear Katy Perry's new single California Gurls? Urgh, she's representing all us Cali Girls, and she makes us look like total slutbags -_- I know it's hard to believe, but _try _to believe that we're not all like that (; _Dear Santa, I'd like someone else to represent me, please. _Don't get me wrong, I love the song... but still, Katy Perry? Gosh.

**ASH123**, in response to your review about the pictures: Yeah, I've been thinking about getting pictures of them for a long time, but I can't find any celebrities that look even remotely like Vanessa or Ashley... or Aiden. I've been trying to do a banner for this fic, too, but like I said, I can't find anyone that look like them. So I _would_ actually draw them out, but my artistic skills are terrible. My friend is really good at drawing, though, but I don't want to ask her to draw for me because it's a lot of work for her.

**Disclaimer: **_you can travel the world, but nothing comes close to the Golden Coast. Once you party with us, you'll be falling in love. CALIFORNIA GIRLS we're unforgettable! Daisy dukes, bikinis on top, sun-kissed skin so hot we'll melt your popsicle (; _

Chapter 21-Three Weeks, Six Days, Nine Hours, and Thirty-Seven Minutes

Harry and I spent exactly three weeks six days nine hours and thirty seven minutes at 4 Privet Drive. How did I know this? Well between the Dursley's complete mortification that they had two almost fully trained witches/wizards in the house and Harry spending hours locked up in his room, I had a lot of spare time on my hands. That was good, because I had lots to think about too.

I did my thinking all over the place—in bed, on the crapper, sitting on the floor waiting for Harry to remember that he didn't have the room all to himself.

Sharing a room with Harry has become a routine torture. You would not know what I mean unless you've had to store all your belongings in the same area as a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old boy that's had a sudden obsession with cleaning his stuff and throwing yours all over the place. I've found a pair of bras stuffed between the bed and the nightstand; my wand carelessly thrown into a closet full of Uncle Vernon's molding suits; a pair of knickers living with dust bunnies under my bed; the wailing bracelet Ashley had given to me for Christmas that I had started to wear again—after I had Hermione put a Silencing Charm on it—mixed in with Harry's dirty underwear. I now clung onto the Malfoy necklace Draco had given me for fear that if I ever let it out of my sight, I'd find it wrapped up in one of Harry's yellowing socks.

I spent most of my free time thinking and daydreaming. For the first couple of days, I toyed with the idea of Ashley still being alive and fighting desperately to free herself from the clutches of the evil Death Eaters. I'd dream about Apparating to her—though I didn't know how—and assisting her and perhaps punch the scumbag Moore in the face while I was at it. I strictly forbid myself from thinking of Draco, and it worked for a while. I certainly had other things to stress about. Somewhere around the middle of July, though, the recurring dreams started. It was always the same, lame scene. Draco would arrive on the back of a handsome white steed, declare his everlasting love for me, and whisk me away to some foreign land where we could have our happily ever after.

It was pathetic. And yet I waited all day for these dreams. My subconscious remembered every detail of his face, from the dark flecks in his grey eyes to the single freckle on the side of his nose.

Somewhere around the three week mark, I was sitting at the breakfast table brooding about the apocalypse when there was a great screech and the hulking figure out Uncle Vernon stood, staring out the window.

"OWLS!" he bellowed, his mustache quivering. "Out in broad daylight! What do you think you're playing at?"

As Uncle Vernon leaned down to fix a beady eye on us, Harry and I caught a glimpse of the two bran owls flying across Privet Drive. One of them began to tap at the kitchen window. Aunt Petunia leapt up, gave a terrified shriek, and bolted out of the kitchen, Dudley in tow.

"The O.W.L results must be here!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and unbolting the lock on the window. The larger of the two birds flew over to me and stuck out its leg.

"O.W.L.s?" said Uncle Vernon. "What are O.W.L's?"

"They're a type of nocturnal bird," I said patiently, unfastening the envelope from the owl's leg, "that usually prey on small rodents and—"

Harry said, "Ordinary Wizarding Exams."

"Exams?" said Uncle Vernon incredulously. "What does your kind have to take exams for? How to Become A Hazard to Society 101?" He chortled heartily at his own joke.

Harry and I glanced at each other and rolled our eyes. I looked back down at my exam results and a sudden inspiration hit me.

"Oh no!" I cried dramatically. "I only got an E in Masturbation! I practiced all term for it too! Oh but it's okay, I got an Outsanding in Lap Dancing. I think the judge was really impressed by me."

Harry stifled a snort of laughter and, deciding to play along, feigned anger. "I've failed my cross dressing exams! Ness, this is all your fault. I _told you_ that I shouldn't have worn that red dress! It clashes horribly with my eyes!"

I stumbled out of the kitchen, faking a stomach ache to as an excuse as to why I was bent double with silent laughter. Harry stayed behind for a few seconds, explaining to a blotchy-faced Uncle Vernon that it was a joke and not to be taken seriously.

Upstairs, I opened my test results again and really looked at it.

_Vanessa Rose Potter has achieved: _

**Astronomy: E  
****Care of Magical Creatures: A  
****Charms: O  
****Defense Against the Dark Arts:O  
****Arithmancy: A  
****Herbology: P  
****History of Magic: E  
****Potions: E  
****Transfiguration: E**

I set the papers down, feeling quite satisfied with myself. I had gotten an Outstanding in both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and even gotten a reasonably good grade in Potions and Transfiguration. I really hadn't expected to pass Herbology, so it didn't faze me too much. After all, it wasn't like I was planning to become a Herbologist, or anything so it was all right. I was slightly disappointed in my Arthimancy grade, as I had stayed up all night studying for it, but it honestly wasn't my strong spot so...

My reverie was interrupted by a light tap on the window. I recognized the owl as Blaise's family's and opened the window to let him in. Inside the envelope was a copy of Blaise's O.W.L results and a long letter agonizing about it.

_Blaise Zabini has achieved: _

**Astronomy: A  
****Care of Magical Creatures: P  
****Charms: A  
****Defense Against the Dark Arts: E  
****Arithmancy: O  
Herbology****: E  
****History of Magic: P  
****Potions: O  
****Transfiguration: E**

I actually laughed out loud when I saw his grades. His failing of Care of Magical Creatures really didn't surprise me, given that he had lost his temper with the bowtruckle he was supposed to be handling, and infuriated his fire crab by accidentally poking his wand in its eyes repeatedly. And failing History of Magic... well, he _did_ fall asleep at the table during every lesson.

I skimmed through his letter, rolling my eyes at his gloating (_And _of course_, I received an Outstanding in Potions. Obviously, the examiner was stunned by my talent and drop-dead gorgeous looks.)_, and giggling at his attempts to excuse his failed subjects. In the postscript, he asked me to stay over the summer. With a pang, I realized we were both remembered Draco.

I grabbed a roll of parchment out of Harry's carefully organized trunk and pilfered a quill and a bottle of ink. I chewed on the end for a second, wondering how I was going to get Blaise a copy of my own examination results. Obviously, a Copy Charm would be out of the question, as the Ministry would be knocking down the door before I could utter the incantation. (Damn the underage wizardry law.) I considered using the copy-machine in Uncle Vernon's study, but decided I wasn't in the mood to argue with him. I shrugged and just stuck the parchment into the envelope, wrote a quick explanation that I couldn't stay over because Harry and I were going over to the Burrow in a week's time, and bid goodbye to Midas, the Zabini owl.

* * *

Harry and I gave our stony faced relatives a tentative wave as Lupin and Kingsley arrived to take us to the Burrow by means of Side-Along Apparation a week later.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, then with equal enthusiasm, "Nessie!"

As I reached over to give Ginny a hug, I saw something over her shoulder that gave me the biggest shock of mylife—Blaise Zabini, sitting in the middle of the Weasleys' kitchen as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Blaise!" I yelped. "What the hell are you doing here?" I glanced at Mrs. Weasley apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't ask him to be here—"

"Oh it's quite all right, dear," said Mrs. Weasley fondly, patting Blaise on the shoulder. Blaise smirked, and I could swear my eyes were about to bug out of my head. "Blaise wrote to us a couple of days ago, asking if he could come over and celebrate your birthday with us. He's one of your best friends, so I couldn't possibly refuse him..."

"Yeah, that's right," said Blaise smugly.

The party was small, just the Weasleys, Fleur's family, Blaise, and a couple members of the Order attended. Mrs. Weasley had baked an enormous cake shaped like a Snitch.

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur over pudding. She nodded at me. "And you, the other one."

Blaise and Ginny grimaced and glanced at me, apology in their eyes.

"For ze wedding," Fleur continued. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne." She gave a sidelong glance at Hagrid, who flushed and looked down at his pudding.

"Yes, good point," said Mrs. Weasley from the end of the table. "Now Harry... Ron and Hermione seem to be under the impression that the three of you are dropping out of Hogwarts."

Blaise dropped his spoon with a clang, and looked up at Harry, his eyes narrowed. Harry chewed his cake slowly, deliberating. When the cake had probably become a slimy mess in his mouth, Harry swallowed it with a wince.

"Well yeah. We are."

"May I ask _why_ you are abandoning your education?" said Mrs. Weasley. The entire table had gone quiet, listening to the conversation as if they were dying of spattergroit and they were a commercial that promised to cure it.

"Well, Dumbledore left me... stuff to do," mumbled Harry.

Mrs. Weasley stood up suddenly, walking briskly back into the house and motioning for Harry to follow her. He did so sullenly.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Blaise leaned across the table and whispered, "Hey if Potface can ditch, why can't we?"

"You heard him. He has stuff to do." I stared at the door of the house, wondering why Harry had never told me anything about this in the three weeks, six days, and nine hours we spent locked up at the Dursleys. I guess it kind of explained his sudden cleaning frenzy, but... You'd have thought he would've told me.

In the middle of dinner, Scrimgeour arrived with Percy. I stood up to greet the former Head Boy with enthusiasm, forgetting that he had turned his back on us. Percy very pointedly ignored me.

Mr. Weasley led Scrimgeour into the house, and Mrs. Weasley came out, looking over her shoulder worriedly. When she saw Percy, her entire face brightened. She offered him cake. He flat out refused.

That night, I lay in bed listening to Ginny snore softly. I stared at the poster of the Holyhead Harpies, grinning madly on their broomsticks, and for the first time in a while, I thought of Draco. I wondered what he was doing right now... if he had heard the news about Ashley. He probably had, I decided, there _had_ been an obituary in the paper. But then again, Draco wasn't big on reading the paper.

Blaise, Ron, and Harry were all staying in the same room, much to their general disappointment. It was probably well past midnight by now and still, I could hear the furious whispers coming from their room.

I pulled off the covers and padded my way up to Ron's room. As soon as I pushed open the door, there was a quick shuffling of blankets and the light suddenly went out. I turned it back on. Harry and Ron were peeking out from under the covers, their eyes wide; Hermione was curled into a ball on the floor, her hands protecting her neck; Blaise was sitting on the bed in his green and silver pajamas, looking annoyed.

"Can you tell your Gryffindor buddies to go plan their escape plan somewhere else?" he whispered irritably. "I'm trying to sleep."

Hermione looked up at me, gave an embarrassed laugh, and continued assorting books on the floor.

"It's past midnight," said Harry reprovingly. "What are you still doing up?"

I crossed my arms. "_You're _still up."

"Yeah, but I'm older than you."

"By two minutes. That's so unfair."

Blaise clutched his head, groaned, and flopped back onto his creaking mattress. "Will you two save the sibling bicker act until tomorrow? I'm completely exhausted."

"But we didn't even do anything today," I said.

He glared at me. "Maybe you didn't, but Mother Weasel's had me cleaning all over this pigsty."

"Watch it," said Ron warningly, "Or you're leaving right now."

Blaise sneered. "Man, I'm so fucking scared right now."

"Hey—"

Something creaked above us, and we all jumped.

"We should get to bed," Hermione breathed, her eyes trained on the ceiling. "I've finished packing the essentials, and it won't do to oversleep tomorrow."

"Yeah." Ron crawled under his bedspread. "A brutal triple murder by the bridegroom's mother might put a damper on the wedding."

**A/N: not my best work... I've been kind of preoccupied with graduation & graduation activities & things of that nature. & plus, there wasn't much to write for this. Next chapter's the wedding. I'm still not sure about that one.**

**& I'm not sure when the next chapter will be coming out. I want to take a little break to enjoy the time I have left with my friends who are leaving. & also to enjoy the week of summer I'm going to have before summer school starts -_- the latest it'll be is two weeks from today. So... it might be out earlier? Yeah.**

**Tuesday's my birthday (:  
read&review! (: **


	22. The Wedding

A/N: Well, I'm back! You guys have no idea how touched I am that you guys all reviewed to say goodbye. And some of you tried to persuade me to stay.. and uh, let's just say you guys should write a persuasive essay on why Justin Bieber is the best fucking thing that has ever happened to this world (; I'll finish this fic. I promise.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't need too much, just somebody to love. (listening to it now.)**

Chapter 23—The Wedding

"Why do I need to dress up?" I whined. "I'm not the one getting married!"

Hermione stood in front of me, hands on her hips. "We're all getting dressed up. Don't complain."

"But I don't even have anything to wear!"

Ginny was ruffling through her closet. "Luckily for you, I do!" She pulled out a slinky green dress with a flourish and a smirk. "Voila! You can scream and tell me how much you love me now."

I stared at the dress in horror. It was one of those clingy dresses that made your hips look huge and had a long, flowing train with lace that just screamed _itchy!_. The top was sparkly around the boob area, and the entire back was cut away in a diamond shape, which meant, _yes_, I was going to have to go bra-less.

"Pretty, huh?" said Ginny admiringly.

"I'll look like a tramp!" I howled. From the bottom of the steps, I heard Fred and George pause in their conversation. There came an outburst of laughing, and the twins wolf whistled. I glared at Ginny. "You can't make me do this."

She shrugged. "Then you'll have to attend the wedding in your muggle sweatshirt and jeans."

I breathed a sigh of relief and began to head out the door. Hermione blocked my way. "Ha ha, very funny."

I spluttered incoherently for a moment. "But—but... My boobs are nowhere near that big!"

"The muggle girl you're going to be impersonating will have bigger boobs, so there's no need to worry," Ginny assured me. "Hermione and I also made _sure_ that her eyes are precisely the same shade of green as yours. Though they might not be as big..." Ginny scrutinized my eyes. "Whatever, though."

"Nobody's even going to be looking at me," I complained, going back to my previous argument. "Fleur's the one getting married. I'm not even a bridesmaid." I looked at Ginny pointedly.

She held up her hands in mock surrender, smirked, and tossed me the dress.

"Get dressed; the guests are arriving in half an hour."

As predicted, I did not fill out the top of my dress, a fact that Fred and George found very amusing. I crossing one arm over my deflated chest as I took an extra large dose of Polyjuice Potion. Immediately, my arms and legs grew longer; my hair straightened out and lightened; but the most peculiar sensation of all was that my chest began bubbling as my breasts grew, and as Ginny and Hermione anticipated, filled out the dress.

"Oh god," I said in a completely unfamiliar voice as I sniffed at my platinum blond hair. "Who's the fucking genius who decided to turn me blonde?"

Hermione and Ginny erupted in giggles. Fred came up to me, and to my amazement, we were almost the same height now.

"You don't look half bad," he said, eyes wide.

"What?" I snarled. "So I look bad normally?"

"Back off, man," whispered George. "Back off slowly."

Harry walked up to me as well and straightened up his back, trying to look taller. He tried tiptoeing.

"Is it even legal for a girl to be this tall?" he grumbled.

"Is it legal for a boy to be that short?" I teased.

He scowled. "You just wait," and downed his Polyjuice Potion in one. Thus, he became even shorter and slightly fatter.

"All right, whose idea was this," growled the redheaded Harry as I burst into laughter.

* * *

The procession passed without incident. The mothers sat in the front row bawling their eyes out and Blaise, who had arrived late, entertained himself by making farting noises come out of his wand. They were perceptible even from the far end of the marquee where I was sitting. Ginny caught up with us as soon as the ceremony was over.

"Hey Ness—oh," she grabbed two butterbeers off a floating tray. "Give me a hand, will you? All right, let's grab a table."

Ginny grabbed hold of my sleeve with her free hand and dragged me to a table at the opposite end of the marquee, babbling enthusiastically the whole way.

"Oh by the way," she said unexpectedly, "Your Slytherin friend, the Zabini guy? He's looking for you."

A couple yards away, Blaise was chatting up a few veela cousins. As we watched, he suddenly struck a pose similar to a Greek statue's. The veelas giggled.

"Sure looks like it," I said, amused.

Ginny shook her head. "That's disgusting. Well anyway, I did hear him asking for Muriel where you were... Wasn't very smart of him, but you know... Slytherins."

I laughed. "You know some of us really are rather intelligent."

She feigned surprise. "Really? Like who, may I ask?"

We found an empty table, and joked around for a couple of minutes. When I looked up again, the veelas were gliding away from a sullen Blaise. He looked around morosely, spotted me, brightened, and strutted toward me. I laughed out loud.

"Hey Blaise," I giggled as he approached.

That stopped him. "You know me?" he said, surprised. Then, realizing his luck, he raised an eyebrow and smirked, aiming to look high and mighty, but only succeeded in looking foolish.

"It's me, you dope," I said, rolling my eyes. "Vanessa Potter, your best friend?"

He dropped the act, and grinned.

"Oh there you are!"

Blaise eyes wandered down my body and back up. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"This is a muggle's body you're checking out, Blaise," I informed him.

Blaise looked at me, amused. "What's this? Vanessa Potter is acting like snotting pureblood? Sorry V, but you really just can't pull it off as well as I can." He sipped his butterbeer with an expression of utmost snootiness.

Ginny shook her head as if to say, _Slytherins... what can you do? _and joined Luna where she danced alone.

Blaise watched her go, apparently lost in thought. He took another sip of his drink, and said with overdone casualness,

"Weaselette's grown up."

I nearly choked. "Moving on fast, aren't we, Blaise?"

He chuckled and flipped up the nonexistent collar of his dress robes. "Heh, well you know... Ladies can't resist the charm."

I snorted. "Charm. Right. Ginny's not even interested in you. She fancies my brother."

He leaned back in his chair, looking disappointed.

"What do chicks see in him anyway?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "What isn't to like about him, Blaise-?"

"He's a bloody Gryffindor," Blaise mumbled.

"Yeah, he's a bloody Gryffindor who stood up to that horrible toad woman all last year. He's captain of his Quidditch team—"

"The _Gryffindor _Quidditch team," Blaise pointed out.

"—Triwizard Champion, Boy Who Lived... 3 times. It helps that people are calling him the Chosen One now... and to top it off, eh's daring, brave, and kind of has that rugged pretty boy thing goin' on with his hair..." I trailed off when I saw Blaise gaping at me. "What?"

"You fancy your brother too!"

I cuffed him across the head. "No, I don't, you dork! I'm just saying that these could be contributing factors."

Blaise crossed his arms. His lower lip jutted out in a slight pout as he watched Ginny accept a dance from a boy who must have been one of Fleur's classmates at Beauxbatons.

"What about me, huh V? I can be daring and brave, too. Not to mention roguishly handsome." Blaise struck the same pose he showed to the vela girls.

I giggled. "Hate to break it to you, Blaise, but that look just isn't cutting it out for you. And by the way, roguish means naughty and mischievous."

"Well I can be naughty and mischievous," said Blaise with an expression that resembled that of a stereotypical pedophile as he leaned toward me. I laughed and pushed his face away.

"Been practicing in the mirror, O Handsome One?"

"I have been, actually," said Blaise, laughing. A slow waltz came on, and Blaise's head jerked back up, looking for Ginny on the dance floor. "Gotta run, V. This is my song."

He sprang up, took off at a dead sprint, and almost tripped over his dress robes. I grinned as he bowed, offered his arm to Ginny, and recited a tacky line he probably got off _100 Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches_. Ginny raised her eyebrows and, with a backward glance at Luna, accepted his invitation to dance with only slight suspicion.

As evening approached, more and more of the guests became drunk. To escape the raucous laughter and drunken antics, Blaise, Ginny, Luna, Neville and I escaped back into the house, where Ginny—with Luna and my help—got a nice campfire going in the middle of the cluttered living room. We roasted marshmallows and joked for a few minutes.

"When will the party die down, do you reckon?" said Neville, rotating the suspended marshmallow slowly over the fire.

"Dunno," I said, popping a flaming marshmallow into my mouth. "Ah, hot! Hot!" I ran around the room, desperately looking for water as they roared with laughter. Eventually, I scuttled into the kitchen, stuck my head under the nozzle and ran the water into my blistering mouth. I popped back into the room, glaring. My tongue felt huge and swollen. "That wasn't funny. I could've died!"

"No, you wouldn't have," said Luna serenely.

"And even if you did, we would not have been held responsible," said Blaise, smirking. "It was your own fault that you didn't realize that your marshmallow was still aflame."

Ron hadn't looked up as I entered, still concentrated on getting his marshmallow to the perfect shade of brown. The rest of us just stuck our blobs of gelatin into the fire, blew them out, and popped them into our mouths—or in my case, just stick them into the fire and pop them in—but no, Neville's had to be perfect. His face held an expression of utter focus as he used his wand to revolve the marshmallow slowly... evenly...

The room had gone silent; we were all watching Ron, all tempted to jump at him and make him drop the marshmallow into the fire. But in the end, there was no need.

There was an outbreak of screams outside. Ron looked up, startled, and his fine piece of art burned in the blaze. He only had a brief second to despair, however, before we realized that the cracks and pops outside were the sounds of people Apparating and Disapparting. Which meant...

The protective charms around the Burrow had been broken.

"So what do you guys think?" said Neville shakily. "Does this mean that the party's over or that it's the Death Eaters..."

None of us answered him. I looked up at Blaise, whose face was tense and serious. Ginny already had her wand drawn. Our silhouettes against the opposite wall looked eerie as they danced with the flames.

"Death Eaters," Ginny breathed. "They're here."

Blaise and I met each other's eyes over Ginny, Luna, and Neville sprinted out the back door, and instead of the fear I had expected to see, there was a sort of grim determination on his face, so different from the carefree expression that he wore usually. I knew exactly what was going through his head right now, because it was precisely the same thing that was going through mine.

_Was Draco out there? If he was, would we be capable to fight him?_

"Let's do this," Blaise said solemnly, and as we stepped out into the diminishing light, I knew that the answer didn't matter. What mattered was that, if faced with the decision, that we _would_ fight him, whether or not we were capable of doing so.

* * *

hellloo (: i might not update for another while... my schedule's full next week. i need to finish a math course in six weeks -_- you know what this means? tests every day. the horror. & plus, my grandpa just passed away, so i need to fly half way across the world for his funeral and miss a day of class. which means i got some major catching up to do... ugh. so maybe not till next next weekend? yeah. sorry ): hope you liked it, though! (:


	23. Aftermath

A/N: holy fucking shit, I'm so sorry. LOL, I know I promised this chapter would be out last weekend... but it's been really crazy. I tried to get it out last night, but I've been planning my independence day weekend (: Sorry. I had a Unit Test on Monday, and another Unit Test on Thursday. And finals on Friday, then the Algebra II Placement test on the same day. So yeah... Well, it's out now. And I proof-read it this time so hopefully it's better than the last one, which, in hindsight, is absolute CRAP. Like, the huge brown stinky ones. But I've kept you guys waiting long enough.

**Disclaimer: Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out for me? Like I'm reaching out for you.**

Chapter 23—Aftermath

It was chaos outside; tables had been turned over, burnt, and blasted to pieces. The ruined tent was barely distinguishable as the beautiful marquee it had been ten minutes previously.

Blaise and I rushed in, eager to assist the Order members in fending off the Death Eaters. To my immense relief, they were all hidden behind masks and under hoods so it was impossible to make out who they were. I shot curse after curse at the oncoming Death Eaters and managed to catch a thickset man with an Impediment Jinx that sent him soaring past the gates of the Burrow. We couldn't have been outside for more than a minute before the adults realized that there were kids outside. Mrs. Weasley, red faced with anger, hurriedly ushered us back in side.

"Mrs. Weasley," I protested as she slammed the door behind her. "You can't expect us to just—"

"You're underage," she snapped. "All of you!"

"But—"

"I won't hear of it! Kids going up against Death Eaters, what rubbish."

"It's not like we haven't done it before, Mrs. Weasley," Blaise said, barely containing his frustration at being pulled out of the action. "At the Ministry—"

"One of you was killed, as I'm sure you all remember," Mrs. Weasley said coldly. We flinched. "It won't happen again."

"Excuse me," said Luna politely, "But have either of you seen Ginny?"  
Mrs. Weasley froze and looked from Blaise to me to Luna to Neville and back to Blaise again.

"Come to think of it," said Neville, looking around. "I haven't seen Ron and Hermione for a while, either."

Mrs. Weasley was out the door before Neville finished his sentence.

Blaise scoffed. "She forgot about her own two children?"

I shot him a disapproving look that he didn't catch and ran to the sliding door, hoping that Mrs. Weasley had forgotten to lock it in her haste to get outside.

She hadn't. I cursed and pressed myself up against the glass, trying desperately to see what was happening. From the looks of it, the Death Eaters were beginning to scatter. I couldn't understand why... until I saw three cloaked figures struggling with a red-headed girl clad in a sparkly gold dress.

"Shit," I breathed and tugged hard on the lock. The hinges rattled and creaked but remained stubbornly shut.

Blaise shoved me aside giving me an exasperated look. He pointed his wand at the much despised lock and muttered, "_Alohamora_." There was a barely audible click, and the door slid open. "Use your head," Blaise called as I dashed outside.

I ran across the yard as fast as my three inch heels would allow, cursing the day these godforsaken things were invented. From behind me, I heard a bang and a yell. I twisted back to check that my friends were okay, and saw a Death Eater who had been running at Blaise fall at Luna's hands.

I was almost to Ginny now. From what I could see, though, she was putting up a good fight by herself. As I watched, she kneed one of her captors in the groin and elbowed another in the face. His mask cracked and slipped, revealing the twisted—even more so now that Ginny had broken his nose—face of Antonin Dolohov.

The Stunning Spell I sent at him soared over his head. I grimaced as all three heads swiveled toward me. Accuracy had never been my strong point, and now I had even lost the element of surprise. Some help I was.

Dolohov advanced toward me, taking his hands away from his nose—a bad idea. I flinched back, repulsed by the blood streaming from his crooked nose, and felt my back collide with a warm body. I jumped as the arms closed around me, trapping me.

And I did the only thing a girl would think to do in a situation like this. I drove my spiked heel into the leather of his shoes. The Death Eater holding me cursed and slackened his grip. I rammed my elbow into his badly developed abdomen, twisted around and jabbed my wand into the crook of his neck. But before I could even begin to threaten him, Dolohov Disarmed me and my wand went flying. I turned to him, and back to the masked Death Eater, torn between who I should beat the crap out of first.

In the end, Blaise saved me from making the decision by sneaking up on Dolohov and bashing his head in with a chair. Neville Stunned the other one. I looked down at Dolohov's battered body for a moment, feeling a mix of revulsion and pity—today was definitely not his day; first he gets his nose broken by a girl, then he suffers a head a blow to the head from a boy half his size wielding a broken chair.

_Don't pity the enemy_, I thought sternly. _This is no time for that. _

Flashes of light flew past me as I looked around for my wand. I was wandless and defenseless... which were not good things to be while wearing three inch heels in a yard with people who wanted to kill you. No, that was not good at all. Finally, I spotted my wand at the base of a gnarled tree. I pelted toward it, dodging the duelers. I had just reached Blaise—who was a few yards from the tree—when the most peculiar thing happened.

I began to shrink. My legs shortened, my hair lengthened and curled... my dress drooped, and my shoes were suddenly two sizes too big.

_Shit_.

Blaise took one look at me and swore so loudly that I swear I saw a few birds take flight. Heads turned our way, and I could practically see the comprehension dawning behind the masks of the Death Eaters. Blaise swore again, breaking the silence.

He pushed me behind him, shielding me with his body. I had a sudden vision of him standing in the Slytherin common room in what seemed like a lifetime ago, saying the very words that would seal our friendship.

"_Look V, if there's anything you can count on in this world, it's that Draco would very literally kill me if I let anything happen to you. So just remember: I got your back—as long as you protect my neck. I'm—I'm kidding. But as long as I'm his best mate and you are his best girl... Well, we'll stick together." _

I felt a rush of affection for Blaise Zabini. But it—like all good things—was short-lived, as I only had a split second to acknowledge it before _poof_, it was gone, replaced by horror and a sense of inescapability. In his haste to shield me, of course Blaise would have forgotten all about the Death Eater he had been dueling two seconds previously.

He grabbed me from behind, lifting me off my high heeled feet. I kicked instinctively and one of the stilettos came flying off. A dull thud and a small gasp of pain told me it had found its mark.

And... was it just me, or did the voice sound as if it hadn't fully matured yet?

But there was no time to think of that now—I had one second at most to get away from him. I twisted in his temporarily loosened grip so that we came face to mask. I couldn't help it; I hesitated and lost the precious instant in which I could have escaped, to peer into his eyehole, half hopeful and half afraid that I'd see the familiar grey eyes staring back at me.

But instead I saw blue, the brightest, clearest blue.

_...and totally ripped with blue, blue, fucking blue eyes. Yeah, he was a total dickhead though_.

"Moore!" someone shouted. "Moore's got the other Potter!"

Several things happened at once. Ginny looked up from her duel with Walden Macnair and met my eyes, horrorstruck, and her opponent, taking advantage of her momentary distraction, hit her with a Stunning Spell; Fred and George had been doubling up on one Death Eater, but at the sound of the cry, they looked up simultaneously. In the same second, a curse flew past George and blood erupted from the side of his head; Blaise lunged toward me, a string of profanities streaming relentlessly from his lips; The Death Eater dueling Tonks—whom upon closer inspection appeared slighter and less built than his fellow Death Eaters—went rigid, and Tonks sent him flying with a well aimed Impediment Jinx. His hood slipped as he reached the ground, revealing a head of white blond hair...

Blaise knocked me aside and wrestled Aiden Moore to the ground; their wands lay forgotten at their feet. I looked from Blaise, to George—who was bleeding freely despite Fred's attempts to stop it, to the unconscious blond boy on the floor. I took a step toward Draco. I choked suddenly as a beefy arm wrapped itself around my neck and pulled me against a wide chest.

"Moore," my captor growled, his chest rumbling with his deep voice, "quit fooling around. Bring the boy along, if you must."

There was a bang and an exchange of swear words, and Blaise lay unconscious on the floor. Aiden spit blood on the ground and looked resentfully at my captor.

"She's mine, Greyback."

Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf? Oh okay, that would explain the rotten egg smell.

"_You_ lost her, Moore. But if you want her so bad, _here_," the werewolf shoved me back toward Aiden. "Take her back to the Manor. Turner's waiting outside for collection of the Weaselette. The Dark Lord will be... so pleased that we've gotten the other Potter instead."

Three flashes of red light. Aiden and two others fell. The other two turned, teeth bared.

Bill Weasley, Kingsley, and Fleur stood with their wands ready.

"I don't know what you plan to do with her," said Kingsley, "but you can't have her."

"Is that so?" Greyback sneered. His long yellow nails cut into my neck. "Any sudden movements and she's dead. We don't need her. It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, not this piece of scum."

They hesitated. Bill pressed his lips together, and lowered his wand. Greyback loosened his grip and chuckled.

"_Incendio_!" cried Bill, his wand still directed at the hem of Greyback's robes, which burst into flames.

Greyback roared in surprise and terror; his hairy hands slipped and I tumbled out of his grasp. The other Death Eater looked around, saw that he was outnumbered, and ran for it. Greyback followed.

"Bloody cowards," Bill muttered, and extended a hand toward me. "You okay?"

Shame washed through me as he grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. I nodded, staring at the ground. There were sounds of people Disapparating all over the yard, but it wasn't like we were in any state to keep them here. We were just lucky to be unhurt. _Mostly_, I amended as Kingsley glanced over at the small crowd gathered around George. Blood was still pouring out all over the place. _Oh, shit_.

I jogged over to them, put my both my hands on Lupin's shoulder, and stood on my tiptoes, trying to see over his graying head. Mrs. Weasley had knelt down beside George, dabbing a gooey substance on the empty hole on the side of his head... My stomach lurched, and I had to take several deep breaths before the world stopped spinning.

"Is—is he going to be okay, Mrs. Weasley?" I asked, addressing her shoulder blade. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to look them in the eye.

"I think so, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.

On the side, Ginny was clutching Fleur and sobbing freely. Guilt nearly overwhelmed me as I turned away. I couldn't stand to be here, intruding upon their family grief. Especially not since it was partly my fault. I looked across the yard; Blaise was starting to stir, so I made my way over to him. None of the Weasleys noticed I had left.

"Hey," I said, kneeling down beside him.

"Wha's goin' on?" he slurred, still bleary-eyed. "Where'd the Death Eaters go? I'm gonna pound their faces in—"

"They're gone, Blaise," I said, feeling a slight twinge of exasperation. It was comfortingly familiar.

"They were that scared of me, huh? _Ouch_, damn it." As Blaise struggled to a sitting position, his left arm jerked suddenly. "Stupid arm... Hey, what's going on over there?"

He was looking in the direction of the Weasley crowd.

"George got hurt," I muttered.

Blaise eyed me carefully. "What's up with you?"

I let out a long stream of air. My hair flew up in wisps. "It's kind of my fault."

"So?" said Blaise, and I almost smiled. "He'll heal, won't he? No harm done."

"I don't think you understand, Blaise." Exasperation grew into annoyance. Still... it was reassuring that Blaise hadn't changed, unlike the rest of the natural world. "His _ear_ has been cut off."

Blaise grimaced before he could stop himself. "Oh... right." He paused and scrutinized the crowd. I'd bet he was looking for the ear. "Ouch... Uh, that sounds like it'd hurt. And bleed. A lot."

"No kidding," I said.

Blaise sighed and started picking at the grass. "Look, I'm touched and all that you care about me so much—"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"—but seriously, why aren't you out there moaning over the loss of George's ear with the other Weasleys? I mean, you're practically part of the fam—"

"_Harry's_ practically part of the family," I corrected him. "_I'm _a Slytherin, remember?"

"Again with the Slytherin prejudice," he muttered. "Lowlife scum-suckers have feelings too, you know?"

I laughed and bumped shoulders with him. "I should. I'm one of them too."

"That's right. So you've got zero right to act high and mighty, Miss Potter. Of course, you've got to have your Slytherin arrogance, too, a field in which I find you highly lacking." He peered at me sternly over the rim of his nonexistent spectacles.

I giggled, then cut off abruptly as I remembered George's ear... or lack thereof. "Oh Merlin," I said, glancing back at the Weasleys. "We're horrible. George is missing an ear, and you're doing a bad impression of Professor McGonagall."

For a minute, Blaise didn't say anything, and together we watched the Weasley family carry George back into the house, shoulders hunched with grief and worry. The door closed behind them, and a light filtered through a window that I knew led to the living room. The yard was dark now as the quarter moon was veiled by a thin layer of clouds and the lights had long extinguished themselves. But Blaise and I sat in the dark, listening to the quiet activity both inside the Burrow and outside.

Finally, Blaise turned to me, teetered on the edge of speech, and said, "Was my impression of McGonagall really that bad?"

* * *

A/N: OKAY SO LIKE, I don't know when the next chapter will be out. I want to say next next weekend, but I don't wanna make a promise I can't keep. I have a pretty good idea for the next chapter, though, but there's a lot of problems with it. OH, and also my Disclaimers at the top aren't really disclaimers anymore... DUnno if you noticed that ;D But like, I'll try to make it some song lyric that goes hand in hand with the chap. That last one was from Eminem.


	24. Sober

A/N: Good morning, lovely reviewers (: ...and other not-as-lovely readers. Here's Chapter 25. It didn't come out as well as I planned it to be, but it's... eh. It's all right.

OH, and it's official. The Other Potter has beaten Opposites Attract, which was my first fic, and the only one to be finished. Well... it beat it word-wise, and I'm not done with this fic yet... so I shudder to think of how many words this one's gonna be -_-

Oh, and if you're wondering, all the song quotes are from Sober by Pink. Yeah, that's why the chapter is called Sober. I couldn't think of a better title. Yeah.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own most of the characters, except Ash and V in this chapter. I do own some of the plot here... but not all of the ideas. Gee, I think this is the first real disclaimer I've done in a while, huh? (: You know what this means? Time for me to get a celebratory brownie. **

Enjoy this chapter while I enjoy my brownie.

Chapter 25—Sober

Ashley Turner was waiting just outside the boundaries of the Burrow, looking extremely spooky dressed in one of Aiden's Death Eater cloaks that had shrunk in the wash. She didn't like to think about what was happening to her friends just a couple hundred yards away. Yeah, both she and Draco had sworn to stick together just a few minutes before but to be honest, none of the Death Eaters really trusted her. Ashley crossed her arms and leaned against a tree, staring longingly in the direction of the Burrow, where she knew her three friends were battling to the death—having fun—without her. She kicked at a rock. Life sucks.

The truth was, she missed both Blaise and Vanessa more than they could possibly know—as they both thought that she was dead—and there was nothing more she wanted to do than to stride in there and fight with them. But that was easier said than done. For one thing, neither Ash nor Draco could exactly march up to their old friends and apologize without being run down by a unicorn or killed by a rainbow, or whatever it was that good guys dueled with. For another, they were both Slytherin, which meant they weren't exactly known for their courage and selflessness. In fact, Slytherins were probably best known for their lack in those Gryffindorian fields.

Ashley was so lost in thought that she hadn't seen Fenrir Greyback approaching until he was close enough to smell—a good fifty yards away.

"Any luck?" she asked Aiden, who was trudging along beside the werewolf, his nose wrinkled in disgust and his expression surly.

"None. Potter and his friends weren't there—"

Greyback interjected. "However, the Other Potter _was _in attendance, but Moore let her slip away." He bared his yellow fangs in a semblance of a grin. "The Dark Lord's not going to like that."

Aiden glared. "You filthy beast, how dare you talk to me like that! If I remember correctly, _I'm _the one with the Dark Lord's trust; _I'm_ the one who bears his mark!" He wrenched his left sleeve up, showing off the Dark Mark branded on his arm. Ashley resisted the urge to flinch away.

"Aiden, settle down," said Ashley sharply. "Have you gotten Ginny—I mean, the uh, Weasley girl?"

"No," said Aiden, staring at the ground moodily. "Dolohov let her get away."

"In order words, you guys totally screwed up."

Greyback growled. "I didn't see _you_ doing anything to help, Turner. You were just standing there watching the _butterflies_."

"Why in the name of Merlin's pants would I stand around watching you?"

"You ignorant little shit!" he snarled. "You tell me... You tell me right now what it is that's stopping me from ripping your throat out this very second."

"You're scared to death of my big, bad boyfriend," said Ashley, making kissy faces at Aiden.

"Will you two stop that?" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "All day long, you two just bicker, and bicker, and bicker. I'm so tired of it! The Dark Lord's expecting us at Malfoy Manor _right now_. It hasn't been a good day for me, and I really don't need all—all this!" He gestured wildly at me and Greyback. We stared at him in shock.

"Gosh, Aiden," I said in mock sincerity, "I didn't know you felt that way... you priss."

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Like I said, it hasn't been a good day. Can we just go?"

_I'm safe up high, where nothing can touch me. _

"So," said the Dark Lord quietly. His head was bowed, examining his long, white fingers. "You have failed, failed _again_ to bring back two little girls." He laughed humorlessly. "There will be punishment."

Nagini raised her great head and stared straight at Ashley, yellow eyes boring into the brown. Her breath caught, and she had to grip the edges of her seat tightly to stop herself from falling over sideways.

"No, no," cooed Voldemort, "we need the Turner girl, for it is she who will lead us to the Other Potter, and ultimately, to Potter himself. Oh yes, I know," he said in response to the shock that was imprinted on Ashley's face. "A very reliable source told me all about you and Vanessa Potter's antics." Though he hadn't so much as glanced at Snape, Ashley directed her glare onto her former Head of House.

"So yes," Voldemort continued, "Turner cannot be spared for you as of right now, my sweet... Moore, on the other hand..."

"M-my Lord," Aiden stammered. "Please."

The Dark Lord stood, his snake-like face completely unreadable. "You have failed me, Moore, time and time again. And Lord Voldemort has been kind; he has been merciful... but no longer. This is the last straw."

"Please," Aiden begged. He too was on his feet, pleading. "My Lord..."

"Avada—"

The side door burst open, and a distressed Wormtail entered the room. He bowed timidly.

"What is it, Wormtail?" asked Voldemort coldly.

Wormtail squeaked fearfully when he heard the fury in his master's voice.

"The Potter diner boy," he blurted nervously. "I—I mean—the Potter boy... I mean—Rowle and Dolohov... They were tracing someone who had broken the Taboo, My Lord. And they were—they were just found unconscious in a muggle diner. We—we believe—" Wormtail gulped and pulled at his collar. "That it was Potter and his friends... who—who did it..."

Slowly, Voldemort sat back into his high-backed chair and pressed his fingertips together, his rage apparently forgotten. Aiden, unsure of whether or not the storm has passed, remained standing in his awkward position.

"Potter is hiding out in the muggle world," said Voldemort thoughtfully. "Quite clever, though I can't expect it'd be very comfortable... Have you found where I should find my new wand, Moore?"

Aiden and Ashley exchanged uncertain glances, unnerved by the sudden change of subject.

"Y-yes, my Lord," said Aiden. He cleared his throat, determined to redeem himself in his master's eyes. "Have you heard of the Elder Wand, my Lord? It crops up many times throughout Wizarding history under different names. Perhaps you have heard of some of them; the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick, the Eldruhn wand, or the Elhorn wand."

"Ah yes," said Voldemort, his scarlet eyes gleaming and attentive. "It is said to be unbeatable, am I correct?"

"You are always correct, my Lord," said Aiden, bowing humbly. Ashley felt her stomach twist with a sudden urge to gag. "There is a problem, however. The last known owner of the Elder Wand was Loxias, and then the trail goes cold with Livius and Arcius. I believe though, that Gregorovitch-the foreign wand-maker-may be in possession of it. And—and that's it... my Lord," he added hastily.

_Aiden never was too great with speeches_, thought Ashley.

Meanwhile, Voldemort leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Aiden sat down, his face flushed with anxiety; Ashley could see his pulse beating in his neck. Some of the Death Eaters fidgeted; others remained as still as stone statues—before they were Charmed to life. Voldemort raised a white hand, and the Death Eaters all went still, holding their breaths. He waved it absentmindedly.

"Dismissed."

_Aah, I am falling.  
And if I let myself go, I'm the only one to blame. _

Aiden and Ashley walk out into the marble foyer, talking quietly. All around them, their fellow Death Eaters were also conversing in hushed tones, some even laughing softly. As if they were allowed to be normal people outside the Dark Lord's presence. As if they hadn't all murdered or tortured before.

Ashley glanced up at the grand staircase and told Aiden to give her five minutes; she had to talk to Draco. She knew which room was Draco's as soon as she saw it. For one thing, he had written "_Meddle not in affairs with the Dragon, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup_." Typical.

"Draco," Ashley whispered as she pushed open the door and immediately made her way over to the enormous bed in the middle of the darkened room. "Draco, wake up. It's Ash. I've got something really important to tell you." He didn't budge. Ashley kicked one of his bedposts as hard she could, but still Draco didn't wake. Ashley blew out a long stream of air. "Look, I don't have much time, so you better either wake the hell up and listen to me, or—or wake the hell up. _This is urgent_." She knelt down beside his bed. "Okay fine, don't wake up, I'm telling you anyway. Look, I know you don't care that much about me, but this isn't about me. Okay, it's sort of about me, but it's mostly about Vanessa. Potter. You know, that girl you used to like. She's in trouble. They—He wants to use me to get her. And—and... I really don't know what to do... or say, 'cause you're obviously not even listening to me, and..." As she rambled on and on, Ashley's voice started to creep upward until she was almost screaming. "I'm freaking out here, like seriously, and you're just passed out there like none of it even matters!" She glared at his sleeping form for a second. "Ugh, you are so _irritating_!"

She threw her hands up in the air and stormed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind her.

_I have heard myself cry, "Never again."_

_Broken down in agony, just try'na find a friend._

Ashley rocked back and forth on her bed, staring at the ordinary muggle clock Aiden had hung on the wall of the guest room. Tick... tock... tick... tock. She sighed and looked out the window, where she could see the first signs of dawn. She hadn't slept all night. And yeah, she would probably pay for it later; who knew what crazy scheme Aiden and his Death Eaters had planned today? Sleep was definitely out of the question, though. She knew Aiden's alarm clock would be going off any minute now.

Ashley glanced back down at the photograph clutched between her fingers. It was about a year old, frayed around the edges due to rough handling. In it, Ashley was smiling and laughing with Aiden, who looked much happier than she had seen him in a while. Every so often, the photographed-Aiden would lean down to kiss the photographed-Ashley and Ashley would look away, an unidentifiable feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The thing was, Ashley knew that the Aiden in the picture was barely the Aiden that slept soundly in the other room right now. The Aiden in the other room had tortured and murdered, this Aiden was pure and carefree. Ashley set down the picture again, not wanting to look too long; else she'd never be able to look away.

Then, before she could change her mind, she threw the picture into the dying fireplace.

_Ah, the sun is blinding.  
I stayed up again.  
Oh, I am finding  
This is not how I want my story to end. _

A/N: I'm sorry to say... that I have no more brownies. I know, I was devastated, as well. Well... that's it. That's the chapter. I remember lying in bed thinking about this chapter and thinking, "OMG, this is gonna be the best chapter yet!" And well... It didn't turn out like that. I forgot how to phrase some of the lines while I slept, and some of the wording came out weird. Yeah, well...

Just wondering, who's seen my tumblr? LOL, cause if you have, you might wanna check out my best friend's too. I posted it on my URLs on my profile. Oh, PS: I might use some of her poems in this fic, so if you wanted to see where it came from... then follow.


	25. Unwelcome

**A/N: **I'm so, so, so sorry about how late this chapter is. T_T I can't believe it's been almost 3 weeks since I updated. AOSDIASDKA. I'm so sorry. I hope that the length of this chapter makes up for it... by the way, if anyone knows any good D/G fics, I'd love to see it. I've just fallen in love with them all over again.

**ASH123: **OMG, haha ! Your review totally made my day. But I'm seriously-SERIOUSLY-not the best writer on FF. I can give you an entire list of better writers. (: Thanks so much, though. It made me so happy. HAHA.

**DISCLAIMER: **haha, i'm watching eminem while I'm writing this, and I love the part where he says, "And to the fans, I'll never let you down again, I'm back. I promise never to go back on that promise, in fact." he looks so earnest. LOL well at least as earnest as eminem could look. but seriously, why would they censor out, "get back, click-clack, BLAOW!" WHY? violence is what makes him eminem. you don't just censor that out -_-

Chapter 26—Unwelcome

It's been two weeks and two days since the disaster of a wedding, three weeks and two days since Harry, Ron, and Hermione have disappeared; it's been two weeks and _one_ day since Blaise's parents threw a fit after finding out he was at the Weasleys' instead of at Draco's house like he had told them, and two weeks and a day that I've spent at the Burrow, completely bored out of my mind.

There is _nothing _to do here. Okay, there are lots of things to do here, but none of them are particularly interesting.

One night over supper—while Ginny and I were having a competition to see who could scarf down a chicken pot pie the fastest—Mrs. Weasley brought up the subject of Hogwarts.

"Your father and I have been talking," she said with overdone casualness.

"Tha's nice," said Ginny thickly, her mouth still filled with potpie. "Hey, no fair, Nessie!"

"It says in the Daily Prophet that Snape's now the Headmaster—"

"Uh-huh."

"—and that Amycus and Alecto Carrow have been hired as the new Muggle Studies and Defense teachers."

"Who're they?" I asked, gulping down chicken.

"Death Eaters," said Mrs. Weasley. She took a deep breath, and continued firmly, "And we believe it best that the two of you not return to Hogwarts next term."

Ginny and I simultaneously gagged and coughed, spewing half-chewed vegetables and soup out of our mouths.

"W-_what?_" gasped Ginny. I coughed, and Ginny thumped me on the back. "Why?"

"It's simply too dangerous," said Mrs. Weasley with an air of someone who had already made their decision. "I won't allow it."

"_Mum!_" Ginny yelled in disbelief and anger. "You can't!"

"Hogwarts is mandatory for all underage wizards now," I pointed out. "You'd all have to go into hiding."

"You don't have to do this!" Ginny shouted, pounding her fist against the table. "It's completely unreasonable!"

"Vanessa," said Mrs. Weasley, completely ignoring her daughter's tantrum. "I understand that Arthur and I have no control over any of your decisions, but we strongly recommend that you also not attend Hogwarts this year."

"What!" I blurted, throwing my hands up in the air. "No!"

My voice and Ginny's blended together in a string of protests and refusals. Mrs. Weasley looked helplessly at her husband, who pinched the bridge of his nose and went back to his supper.

"Enough," she finally said. "_Enough_. You two aren't going. That's my final take on this matter."

"I can take care of myself!" said Ginny. "At least let me go. They're rooting out the Muggle-borns, but I'll be safe. They won't do anything to me. If you want to keep anyone at home, keep Vanessa here. She's the Other Potter—she's Harry Potter's sister. Aside from Harry himself, she's the most wanted person in Britain ."

"What happened to all for one and one for all, Gin?" I said incredulously.

"Oh come on, Nessie," she said, turning on me. "You know it's true. The Death Eaters are gonna jump you the moment you walk onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. If anyone shouldn't go, it's you."

I stood up abruptly. The chair protested and squeaked against the floor. "Why the hell do you care—"

Ginny eyes widened in alarm. "I didn't mean it like that—"

"—You wouldn't give Peter Pettigrew's slimy rat's ass about me if I was Harry fucking Potter's sister. Well you're not my family and"—I turned to Mrs. Weasley—"You're not my mother. My mother is dead; she's lying under a tombstone in who-knows-where without any idea that I'm still alive. But _she's_ still my mum. You can't replace her no matter what you do."

"I never tried to replace her, dear."

I stalked out of the kitchen, drowning out the rest of her words with my footsteps. I stomped up the stairs and into Ginny's room. I could still hear them talking softly about me, and it thoroughly annoyed me. Though not as much as the bright orange posters slathered across Ginny's walls, a clear reminder that this was _her _room, and not mine; that _she_ belonged here, and not me.

I stormed out of her room and into the bathroom across the hall. I stared around at the rusted metal appliances, and above my head, the ghoul rattled the pipes loudly. I couldn't help but think,

_This_ is the place Slytherins belong.

* * *

_For shizzle my whizzle,  
__This is the plot  
__Listen up you bizzles forgot  
__Slyzzles don't give a fuck. _

* * *

The next couple of days were awkward. I had packed up the little belongings I had in a little rucksack that used to belong to Harry, and I carried it across the hall to Fred and George's now empty room, where I found Sebastian hiding under the bed, playing with one of the twins' unfinished products. I scooped him up and threw his toy out the window before he could hurt himself.

A couple times a day, I'd see Ginny or Mrs. Weasley when I walk out of Fred and George's room for a bathroom break, and they'd open their mouths like they had something to say. Then they'd close it, as if I wasn't worth the effort. So I'd walk in the bathroom, and stare at myself in the mirror. I'd look past the dark hair and green eyes, everything that made me Harry's sister, and I tried to see what made me Slytherin. Because that was what repelled the Weasleys from me. And that's what made Draco my friend.

Because despite everything, his necklace stood hung around my neck, serving as a reminder for what would have been, what should have been, and—I usually didn't let myself think it—what still could be. I had swore loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix , to Dumbledore, and to Harry. But something kept me from unclasping the necklace. And while I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to see what Draco saw, I think I knew why; the necklace symbolized hope. While the necklace remained close to me, hope was still alive. Barely, but there.

This kind of naivety is the result of growing up to bullshit fairytales.

Someone rapped sharply on the door. I jumped.

"Who is it?" I called.

"Who do you think, stupid?" said Ginny's voice. "Open up."

"I'm taking a shit," I lied.

"That's gross. I'll wait out here then."

"No! That's gross. Do you want to hear every fart and every plop of my shit?"

"Yeah, all right, I'm leaving. Come talk to me later, okay?"

Ginny's footsteps retreated, and I heard the sound of a door clicking shut. I looked back at the mirror. Suddenly, I couldn't see the sharp angle of my cheekbones, or the slight glint in my eye, or anything else that made me look remotely like a Slytherin. I saw my wild black hair and bright green eyes that stared right into my soul.

I ran a hand through my hair, studying it in the mirror, pursed my lips and blew out a long stream of air.

"Shit," I muttered.

I made my way over to Ginny's bedroom, where she greeted me by asking whether or not I thought she could fit another Holyhead Harpies poster in her room. The honest answer was no, as you couldn't even see what color her walls were anymore, but I told her that she could definitely fit a few dozen more on the ceiling, or something. We spent the rest of the afternoon laughing and joking, pausing long enough just to breathe, and then we'd launch into another fit.

By the time Mrs. Weasley called us down to dinner, I knew that everything was fine between us again. She caught my eye as we descended the flight of stairs, and she said,

"I'm sorry."

That's all I wanted to hear, anyway.

* * *

_I shoot for the moon,  
But I'm too busy gazing at the stars. I feel amazing, and  
I'm not afraid_.

* * *

We talked it over. Actually, Ginny talked while Mrs. Weasley peeled potatoes and refused to listen to anything we had to say. Then, Ginny threw a tantrum and threatened let Mafalda Prewett stay over. She was a first year Slytherin who I discovered was something like Ginny's second cousin or third cousin, or something like that. That was when she caved. There were some conditions though; something about not sneaking out, or attracting attention, or getting into trouble. We weren't exactly paying attention.

Another thing was that Mrs. Weasley had agreed to take Ginny and me to Diagon Alley to see Fred and George's new shop, and also to get school supplies. Blaise and I were planning to meet up there—after he ditches his parents, as they haven't exactly taken a liking to me.

Hagrid met us at the entrance to Diagon Alley. _Security purposes,_ as Kingsley had put it. Now, I don't have anything against Hagrid or other half-giants, but I _do_ have something against being seventeen years old and having to be baby sat.

"We're in a bit of a hurry," said Mrs. Weasley, nervously checking her pocketwatch as Hagrid affectionately ruffled my hair. "At this rate, we won't have any time to check on Fred and George's shop."

"Don't you worry, Molly," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "I'll take care of the books and supplies. You lot go ahead; those troublemakers are waiting for you in that shop of theirs, I reckon. Best not keep them waiting."

"Are you sure, Hagrid?" said Mrs. Weasley, though she looked relieved. "It's an awful lot of trouble..."

He waved a dustbin lid sized hand around dismissively. "It's nothin'."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and I made our way through Diagon Alley, and I couldn't help but noticing that a good percentage of what had been cheery stores were now dim and boarded up. We passed by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and Gambol and Japes, shaking our heads mournfully at the sad, deserted state in which they were left.

"_Whoa_," said Ginny, stopping in her tracks so that I nearly ran into her.

Surrounded by the gray and black slabs of concrete, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes stood out like a beacon. The brightly lit shop was absolutely packed... not that I was surprised; Fred and George did have a knack for attracting attention.

Ginny and I walked in as if we were in a trance, our heads swiveling back and forth; there was just so much to look at. I barely noticed that I was getting pushed and shoved from every side by hordes of the twins' customers.

"Ginny, Ginny," I said, tugging at her arm excitedly. "Look at that, do you think we could-?"

The arm I was grasping tore out of my grip. I spun around and found myself face to face with a brown haired boy with freckles and a disdainful look on his face.

"Who're you?" I asked blankly.

"Not Ginny, that's for sure," he snorted, put on a falsely cheerful face and did an annoyingly accurate imitation of my voice. We were soon pushed away by the sea of people, but I caught him giving me one last condescending look before disappearing.

I scowled and scanned the crowd, looking fruitlessly for the fiery red hair of Ginny Weasley—or any Weasley for that matter. _Where did they go off to? _Well, as long as my ride home isn't any where to be found, I might as well have a look around.

I skirted the WonderWitch shelves, which were surrounded by giggling girls sniffing love potions and cooing over the Pygmy Puffs, which were admittedly cute despite their appearance as a large pink hairball. The area around the Skiving Snackboxes was particularly crowded with Hogwarts students; Niles Hanley nodded at me in acknowledgement, Mandy Brocklehurst waved, and several others sniggered loudly.

"Hey Potter!" called Tracey Davis, who was sneering. He's held a grudge against me since I spilled undilated bubotuber pus in his lap during Herbology in our third year. "Check this out."

He tossed me a bundle of paper, making some of the kids laugh and jeer. I didn't exactly understand why it was so humiliating for me to be thrown a newspaper. Although, it was the Daily Prophet, so I suppose they could have been metaphorically throwing shit at me.

I very pointedly rolled my eyes at Davis , and opened the newspaper to the front page.

**DRACO MALFOY PRONOUNCED DEAD**, the headlines screamed at me.

I drew in a sharp breath, but feeling Davis and others' eyes on me, I kept my face emotionless.

"What about it?" I said.

Tracey Davis looked unfazed. "Read the headlines, Potter."

I looked back down at the newspaper folded in my hands. "'_Draco Malfoy Pronounced Dead_'. What of it?"

Several of the onlookers burst into laughter, and Tracey Davis's sneer grew more distinct.

"You don't fool me, Potter," he said. "Don't you know that—"

"What's going on here?" demanded a familiar voice in a completely unfamiliar tone.

I turned and saw George Weasley standing right behind me, a disapproving expression looking completely out of place on his usually happy-go-lucky face. Fred peered around his brother's shoulder and grinned at me. Behind me, Tracey Davis and his friends got some of the others to start singing a song that went something like, "_Draco Malfoy's dead, Draco Malfoy's dead."_ Their creativity will never cease to amaze me.

Fred and George turned toward Tracey Davis, confusion on their identical faces, then their eyes directed them toward the crumpled up newspaper in my hands. Suddenly, their expressions were murderous.

"Okay you, _out_," said Fred, taking Tracey Davis by the shoulder and steering him out of the shop.

"And you, you, and you," said George, pointing at the group of singers. "Get out, and don't let us catch you in this place again. _Hey_, I saw that. Do you want me to shove this up your—Yeah, you better run."

The twins scattered the rest of the group, alternating between death threats and horrible insults. Many of the students shot dirty looks and made obscene hand gestures. A few looked close to tears.

"So," I said casually, holding up the Prophet and ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach. "Is this—Is this true?"

"Naw," muttered George, taking it from me. "It's another joke item. The headlines are supposed to reflect your deepest fear. We thought it might've been a nice prank."

"Oh," I said, heat flooding my cheeks. So that's why they were laughing.

"Oh, don't worry about them," said Fred cheerfully. "They're all a bunch of pricks."

My gaze lingered on George for a moment; he looked a bit peeved.

"Don't worry about him," said Fred in an undertone. "It's just the kids. They've been commenting on his ear all day."

"Just because I only have one ear doesn't mean I can't hear you," said George, glowering.

"Of course it doesn't, mate," Fred backtracked. "I didn't say that."

"Yeah, okay. Hey Nessie, you might want to try out some of our new Love Potions. We formulated them with you specifically in mind." George winked, suddenly cheerful again.

"No thanks," I grimaced.

"Hey mister," said a small boy, tugging on the hem of George's robes. "What happened to your ear?"

Fred looked slightly afraid, as if George was a ticking bomb that was about to go off. But he just took a deep breath and ignored the kid.

"Are you sure? Free of charge."

I looked at the pair of them suspiciously. Charity from the Weasley twins was never a good thing.

"Lighten up, Ness ," said Fred, punching my arm lightly. "We're trying to do you a favor."

"By turning me into a frog?" I said skeptically.

"Where's the trust?" they asked, laughing.

"Trust? You two? Oh no—no way. I've learned my lesson about that."

"Mister," said a little girl, holding a lollipop and gazing innocently up at George. "Where's your ear hiding?"

As Fred predicted, George exploded, yelling and stomping his feet, and scaring the little girl out of her wits. Fred led me away before they attracted too much attention, and—you know—someone recognizes the Other Potter. I've tried to tell him not to worry about it, that no one knows or cares who I am, anyway, but he won't believe me; he says it's different now that everyone knows that Voldemort is back, and Harry's apparently gone into hiding.

"V! Hey, V—hey kid, get out of the way, I'm Blaise fucking Zabini." Blaise headed toward me, pushing a gaggle of kids out of the way. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Why weren't you at Florean Fortescue's like we planned?"

"I'll see you later," muttered Fred, forcing his way back to George, who was surrounded by children ogling at the hole in his head.

"Because it's been closed down, you thickhead. It's all boarded up."

"And it would've been the perfect rendezvous point! Merlin, V, use your head." He rolled his eyes. "Have you gotten your supplies yet? I need to head over to Madam Malkins'. I just ditched my mum by Slug and Jigger's. She might be slightly irritated, so it's possible that she won't get my robes for me. No worries, though, I nicked some gold from her." He grinned and jangled his pockets.

"You're such a Slytherin," I said, unsure of whether or not I should be worried for him.

"Thanks V; that means a lot. So are you coming, or what?"

"Sure. Let me just find Mrs. Weasley..." I peered around for a moment.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's go."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the exit. I thought about protesting, but it wasn't as if that would stop Blaise fucking Zabini. Besides, I'll be back before they even know I'm gone.

"Have you heard the rumors?" Blaise asked, once we were back out on the street. His voice was hushed, though there was no need; the small amount of people on the streets were walking quickly and focusing on their own business. "It's not exactly... all over the papers. But there are a few stories on the underground stations. You know... the ones that aren't with You-Know-Who. Ernie Warmen says—"

"Who's Ernie Warmen?"

Blaise stumbled slightly. He caught himself before he hit the ground and looked around nervously as he straightened his robes and pretended that he hadn't just tripped over his own feet. "You're telling me... that you live with four Order members, and _you don't know who Ernie Warmen is_?"

"Er—"

"He's amazing; I don't know where het gets all his intel from, but he knows _everything_ that's going on with You-Know-Who. _Especially _the stuff the Prophet's been husing up. And—well," Blaise suddenly grows solemn. "There've been a couple rumors... a few sightings... People think that Ashley might still be alive."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You take wishful thinking to a whole new level, Blaise. We saw her _body_, remember? She had a funeral, and all."

"It's not exactly impossible to fake a death, V. Complicated spell here, transfigure something there, and _poof_, the world thinks you're dead. Ashley's not stupid."

"Yeah but... I don't know, she'd have told us, or sent us a sign, or _something_. She wouldn't just leave us hanging like that. She's not like that scumbag, Pettigrew."

Blaise was silent, deliberating. I sighed and kicked at a rock.

It would be amazing if somehow, Ashley were still alive and out there, but even I couldn't bring myself to hope for that much. And it wasn't to say that I didn't miss her; I missed her with each passing day. Sometimes, while I lay awake in bed, I'd remember some of the crazy things that we had done that past year, and I just couldn't believe that she was really and truly gone. I've been telling myself for months to get over it, that she wasn't going to come back. But for some reason, I keep coming back to the night she died, feeling that there's something crucial that I've been missing. These days, an unfamiliar hatred would fill my body, making sleep even more impossible. And on these days, I swore I would kill Aiden Moore, even if it was the last thing that I did.

"Okay, so how about this," said Blaise, jolting me out of my reverie and launching into a new and equally preposterous theory of his. "Don't jump out at me, it's just a theory. We need to consider all the options. Okay, consider this: Maybe Moore didn't kill her, after all. Maybe he helped her fake a death, and they're both alive at this very moment, working together."

"Yes, and maybe Ashley's really an Animagus, and she's running around Hogwarts as a flobberworm," I teased.

The other Slytherin's eyes widened dramtically. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "That's exactly what I'm talking about here. I'm glad to see you're thinking outside of the bum now, V."

"Box. Outside of the box."

"Like it matters," said Blaise with a roll of his eyes.

"If you're going to be quoting muggles, you might as well respect them," I said reprovingly.

Blaise dug a finger in his ear, looking confused. "I'm sorry; did I just hear 'muggle' and 'respect' in the same sentence?" I sighed, shaking my head. Blaise peered down a small alleyway. "I think Madam Malkins is down this way... Yes, here it is." He pulled at the door handle, making bells jingle softly inside the shop. Holding open the door with a smirk, Blaise bowed mockingly and said, "After you, sir."

"Ladies first," I said, smiling sweetly and gesturing.

Blaise grinned toothily and fluffed up some nonexistant hair. "_Such_ a gentleman! Your mother must be oh-so-very proud."

I grinned back at him, amused by the familiar antics of my friend. Blaise, meanwhile, was scanning the small shop.

"Huh. It's empty. Madam Malkin must be in the back with a customer. Hey-what's this?" Blaise walked briskly over to the countertop, his expression unreadable. He picked up the wand and twisted it in his fingers, eyes narrowing. "Vanessa, this is-"

At that moment, a door in the back slammed shut with a loud _thud_, announcing the arrival of Madam Malkin and her apparently hot-tempered customer. A familiar voice rang out, thick with irritation and indignation.

"...not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping_ alone_."

There was a clucking noise, made presumably by Madam Malkin. "Now dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child-"

"Watch where you stick that pin, will you!"

Draco Malfoy himself appeared from behind a rack of clothes, wearing a handsome set of dark green robes which-in my very biased opinion-made him look absolutely stunning. He strode to the mirror, admiring himself. I heard Blaise mutter something along the lines of _conceited git, _and though it possibly couldn't have been heard across the room, Draco's chin tilted up slightly, and for the first time, he noticed Blaise and I reflected in the mirror over his shoulder. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he spotted Blaise holding his wand delicately between his fingers.

"What are you doing with my wand, Zabini?" said Draco coldly.

"Preparing to shove it up your ass," Blaise, taking a step toward his former best friend.

"Now, now," said Madam Malkin, scurrying over to Draco with a tape measure and wand, "there's no need for such language."

"Where's your mummy at, Zabini?" sneered Draco. "I bet you wouldn't talk like that in front of her. Scared she'll give you a time out, aren't you?"

"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. "Madam-please-"

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack and met my gaze evenly.

"Pleasure to see you again, Vanessa," she said. "And you, Blaise, I suggest you not talk to my son again that way again, or I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really," said Blaise. He looked furious. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin gasped and cluthced at her heart. "Really, you shouldn't accuse-dangerous thing to say-!"

I felt incredibly awkward. I had no desire to threaten Draco or Mrs. Malfoy with my wand in their faces and yet, I felt as though I should say something to defend Blaise. I couldn't bring myself to, though. I couldn't get over the fact that Draco was _here-_-right in front of me.

His eyes flicked over to me, and my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't understand the expression in his eyes; it was almost... pleading. _Oh yes_, _I was supposed to be angry with him_, I realized. _He killed Dumbledore... He hurt Bill... He was the reason why George lost an ear... He's standing right in front of me_.

I opened my mouth to say something-anything, but I didn't get the chance. Blaise tugged at my arm, trying to draw my attention. I turned toward him expectantly, but he was still glaring coldly at the Malfoys.

"Come on, Vanessa. Now that we know the kind of scum that shop here... We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tattings."

And with that, he dragged me out of the shop, taking care to chuck Draco's wand in his direction as hard as he could.

"Can you believe this?" Blaise was muttering as the door swung shut behind us. "Of all the rotten luck... We had to walk in at the precise moment that Draco and his _mummy_..."

Blaise was walking in the completely wrong direction, still muttering incoherently. I doubted he even realized that I wasn't with him anymore. Against my better judgement, I looked back, meeting Draco's eyes through the window of the shop. I inhaled sharply.

"Fuck," I cursed, scurrying back over to Blaise

* * *

_Okay, quit playing with the scissors and shit, and cut the crap.  
I shouldn't have to rhyme these words in a rhythm for you to know it's a rap.  
You said you was king, you lied through your teeth.  
And for that, fuck your feelings, instead of getting crowned,  
You're getting capped._

* * *

**A/N: **oh thank god, I'm finally done with this chapter. I really didn't plan on it being this long. I planned on it ending exactly at the point in which it ended, but when I went back to edit, I realized that there was so much I needed to do before they return to Hogwarts, which they are _definitely_ going to do next chapter. Finally, you know?

Oh, and by the way, all the lyrics are from Eminem. Not Afraid, and Till I Collapse. I recommend listening to Not Afraid. Not so much Till I Collapse. The lyrics are amazing, as usual. But it's several years old, and Eminem's practically yelling in your ear.

What d'you think of this chapter? I worked really hard on it, so I'd love to hear feedback. I've fallen asleep lots of times with my laptop next to me, open to my Other Potter files. I've pulled an all nighter once, too. (: So... review, please?


	26. Chapter 27

A/N:

**DISCLAIMER: **WTF, some kids commit a murder, and blame EM? fucking ridiculous. Like he says... "they say music can alter moods and talk to you. Well can it load a gun and cock it too? Well if it can, the next time you assault a dude, just tell the judge it was my fault, and I'll get sued too." I think someone DID do that, huh? Killed his wife and kids while singing, "Here comes Satan, I'm the anti-Christ. I'm here to kill you." and claiming he got it from Eminem? Jesus Christ, leave him alone**. ANYWAY i don't own HP, or the eminem lyrics that I'm sure to use in this chapter. **

Chapter 27-

Ashley was mad. No, she was _livid_.

"Why do I have to go back?" she yelled for the hundredth time. "What's the _point_ of making me go back?"

Aiden rubbed at his eyes wearily. Ashley had woken him up at four in the morning by knocking down his door and yelling in his face.

"_Your assignment_ is the point, Ash. Geez, how many times do I have to explain this to you? Besides, I'll be there too, remember? I'm stationed at the school so you can see me any time you'd like. Just-please-not at four in the morning."

"Don't try to change the subject," snapped Ashley.

"I-I wasn't...!" Aiden threw his hands in exasperation. "You're ridiculous."

"There you go again," said Ashley, her eyes narrowing, "trying to change the subject."

He sighed, drawing the girl into his arms. She relaxed slightly against him.

"Quit being so overly dramatic."

"Sorry," she mumbled into his chest. "It's in my nature."

Aiden almost smiled. "I know."

Ashley pulled away, and he tensed, sensing another tantrum coming on. As usual, his instincts didn't fail him.

"Why can't I stay with you?" she demanded.

Aiden rolled his eyes and glanced at his pocketwatch. "I've told you already. Snape thinks it mighth be-er-inappropriate. And since he's the headmaster... Besides, this will make your assignment easier. You share a room with the Other Potter, don't you? Take advantage of that. Regain her trust."

"And how do I do that? They think I'm _dead_, Aiden, thanks to you. That wasn't exactly one of your brightest ideas."

"Just stick to the story," said Aiden distractedly, straightening his robes and admiring himself in the full-length mirror. "Come on, we've got to go. It's a quarter to eleven, and you'll want to get good seats on the trains."

"What do you mean," said Ashley, panicking. "Can't I sit with you up in the staff compartment?"

"No."

* * *

_My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why  
I even got out of bed at all  
The morning rain clouds up my window,  
And I can't see at all._

"You ready?" Ginny's head popped into my-Fred and George's room. "Mum's beginning to fret."

"Yeah, just about." I looked around the room, apologizing silently to Fred and George for the mess I've left in their room. "Have you seen Sebastian?"

"He's been lurking in the garden trying to catch a gnome for the last few days."

"Ginny! Vanessa! If you two don't get a move on, you'll be _walking_ to Hogwarts."

We grimaced in unison, and Ginny hurried over to help me with my trunk.

"What the hell do you have in here?" she hissed.

"Leave it, leave it. _Locomotor trunk_." The trunk lifted a few inches off the ground and started to make it's way down the steps. "Bloody hell, I actually did it!"

Girls!" Mrs. Weasley screamed.

We jumped violently and scampered down the stairs.

"Coming!"

* * *

___My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why  
I even got out of bed at all  
The morning rain clouds up my window,  
And I can't see at all._  
And even if I could, it'd be all gray.  
But your picture on my wall  
Reminds me that it's not so bad.  
It's not so bad. 

There was something distinctly off about Platform Nine and Three-Quarters this year, Ashley noticed. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"You go ahead," muttered Aiden, drawing her in for a half hug and pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'll take care of your trunks. See you in a few hours, okay?"

Ashley nodded, boarding the train while watching Aiden surreptitiously through the window. As soon as she was sure that he was safely out of sight, she got off and approached Draco, who had just finished bidding goodbye to his parents.

"I can't believe this," she groaned as soon as Draco noticed her. "Aiden hadn't even bothered to tell me that I was to go to Hogwarts. He just went out and bought my supplies without telling me."

"Thank God you have me, right?" said Draco, grinning.

"Get over yourself, Draco, I was just stating a fact."

"Right. So, have you thought about how you're going to break the news to V?"

"Aiden says to just stick to the story," shrugged Ashley. "But it's not a very good story, if you ask me... They're going to hate me, Draco."

"They already hate me," he pointed out.

"Oh yes," said Ashley, grinning. "Your encounter at Diagon Alley was absolutely horrendous."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Don't try to downplay my suffering, Turner... Oh hell, is that them?"

Ashley followed his gaze to a point some fifty yards away, where Vanessa Potter, the Weaslette, and the Mother Weasel were scurrying in through the barrier, frazzled and obviously late. Mrs. Weasley leaned down to hug the two girls briefly before giving them a slight push toward the bright red steam train. Ginny hurried over to greet Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom while Vanessa went in the opposite direction, heading toward a dark boy-Blaise.

"Shit, shit, shit," cursed Draco, throwing his hood over identifiable hair. "Put on your hood, Ash."

"Why?"

"Because it's easy to notice, you dope. Is it red, or is it brown? Why can't you hair make up it's fucking mind? If it was a shade darker, it'd be leaning toward purple," said Draco. Ashley glared at him. "What I'm saying is that it doesn't exactly blend in. Put on your fucking hood before you give us away."

Ashley consented, making a point of rolling her eyes as she did so.

"We can't hide from them forever," she said. "They'll know by tonight."

"I'm only trying to postpone your execution, Ash. I don't need to hide from them."

"Oh, well then, thanks, I guess."

"You'll be dead by nightfall."

Ashley snorted and punched him playfully.

* * *

The common room was tense later that evening. At least, that's how it felt to me. In actuality, it was pretty cheerful. The rest of the Slytherins were celebrating Snape's new role as Headmaster, and the removal of the muggle borns. They ignored us for the most part, occasionally throwing an insult my way, or offering Blaise some of the butterbeer they have nicked from the kitchens. Funny how they didn't seem to hate Blaise, even though he was hanging out with me. Perks of being a pureblood, I suppose.

Though he didn't say it, I could tell that Blaise was constantly on the lookout for Draco. I didn't know what they'd do if they spotted each other, but I was just glad that Draco had the sense to stay out of sight. Not that I was scared for him. If anything, I should be scared _of _him. He's a Death Eater, and not to mention my ex-boyfriend, and if you ask anyone, they'll that's not a very good combination.

"I'm just going to head down to the dormitories," Blaise announced. "We're seventh years now, so I reckon that we'll have our work cut out for us tomorrow. Night, V."

"Yeah, I guess I should go, too. Night."

Down in the dormitories, I changed into the silk pajamas-Gryffindor colors, of course-that Fred and George had gotten me for my birthday. I don't know what they were thinking when they bought it for me. Maybe they wanted to give the Slytherins another reason to murder me. They were close to it already. I slipped into bed, ignoring the loud, raucous party above my head, and trying not to think about how obnoxious Parkinson and Bulstrode were going to be when they came in, tipsy from the butterbeer. I might as well try to get a few hours' sleep before they annoy me to death.

A few minutes later, I heard the door click softly shut. I braced myself for what I liked to call the Pansy Stench and burrowed my way under the covers and threw my pillow over my ears. But the smell didn't come. Which struck me as curious.

I sat up in bed, expecting to see Blaise here to complain about how he couldn't get any sleep because of the party, or-here was my imagination running wild again-Draco here to apologize and declare his undying love for me. (Speaking of which, I had finally summoned the courage to take off his necklace.) But then, rational thought caught up with me and I remembered that boys weren't allowed in the girls' dormitories. And indeed, the figure standing in front of the doorway was definitely not a boy, or a man, or anything of he male species.

It was Ashley.

**A/N: sorry about the general crappiness of this chapter, especially toward the end. i just kinda wanted to get it over with... i don't know what's been wrong with me lately. haha. mm, i didn't really proofread it, so please excuse any mistakes? it won't be too bad, anyway.**

**oh, and check out my new original fic. as of right now, it sounds pretty shallow... it wasn't supposed to be that way, and i promise it will get deeper. somewhat. **

**www (.) fictionpress (.) com/s/283528/1**

**reviews, anyone?  
**


	27. Chapter 28

A/N: hello! Long time no chapters, huh? Sorry about that. Well the point is I'm back now! How have you guys been? Seen the new movie? Cried your eyes out? Spent the rest of the week obsessing about it into the wee hours of the morning? Me too.

Now that we got that out of the way, here's the next chapter:

* * *

The first thing that ran through my head? What. The. Fuck.

"Surprise," she said meekly.

I should have been happy. I should have been overjoyed by the sudden reappearance of my best friend. I should be jumping with joy and smothering her with hugs and kisses. But all I had were questions. The most important of which was,

"What the fuck, Ashley?"

"I guess you should sit down?" she said with a wavering smile.

I stared at her. Who was this weak girl that seemed so unsure of herself? What had happened to the loud, obnoxious, ever-confident Ashley that had darted out of the Happy Room like a madwoman, ready to take on the world?

"I'm already sitting," I pointed out.

"Oh," she said, taking a seat on the bed opposite mine. "Right. Well how have you been?"  
"Complete and utter shit," I replied. "Not that you seemed to care these last few months. You were too busy vacationing in the Land of People-Who-Are-Dead-Oh-Just-Kidding."

"Wow," she snorted, kicking off her shoes. She seemed to have regained her confidence now that the conversation had turned sarcastic—her area of expertise. "You seem to have grown a backbone in the last two months. Who would've known?"

"Cut the crap, Turner," I snapped. "I'm serious, where the hell have you been? Blaise was all cut up about it for weeks and weeks and"—a thought just occurred to me, one that Blaise had planted weeks ago as a joke. It had, however, lost its humor—"You were with Aiden, weren't you? All that shit you used to spew about romance being bullshit and—"

"You're such a filthy hypocrite, you know that, Vanessa?" Ashley shot back, having forgotten completely about the story she had planned. "As if you wouldn't have done the exact same thing if it had been Draco—"

"I never would have abandoned you," I protested. "And I would never abandon Blaise, either, seeing as how he's all I got now that my best friend has turned out to be such a lying traitorous bitch and my boyfriend's a potential murderer."

Ashley snorted disbelievingly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that she was supposed to be making up with Vanessa, not antagonizing her further. But Aiden couldn't possibly believe that one night would be enough to turn Vanessa back around, especially not with the attitude she had developed over the summer.

"Whatever," she said, heading back out the door. "I'm going to take a shower."

I called, "You can wash all you want, you know, but you're never going to get rid of the stench of Eau de Bitch."

* * *

She walked away with both middle fingers in the air.

The next morning, Ashley woke up earlier than any of her roommates, changed quietly and left before any of them so much as stirred. She hoped that by heading down the Great Hall early, she could avoid the usual crowd and therefore the whispers and accusations about the Girl Who Lied.

She was not at all surprised to find Aiden sitting up at the staff table, conversing in low tones with Amycus Carrow. She sat down at the deserted Slytherin table and loaded her plate with eggs and bacon.

"How did it go last night?" Aiden asked, startling Ashley so that she slopped orange juice all over her robes.

"Aiden!" she said furiously, dabbing at her robes with a napkin. "How about a little warning next time?"

"You're ridiculous," he said, pointing his wand at her and siphoning the juice off her robes. As soon as she was juice-free, he asked again. "So what happened?"

"You mean you didn't hear us?" she replied bitterly. "Funny, I thought everyone within a fifty-mile radius would've heard us."

Aiden was aghast. "You mean you yelled at her?"

"She started it."

As Aiden settled into a frustrated silence beside her, she made her first mistake of the morning, and looked up. And there, at the staff table was tiny Professor Flitwick, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. He was staring avidly at her, unable to believe his eyes. Ashley quickly averted her eyes, unable to meet his due to the shame that was washing over her. She had seen the obituary that he wrote for her, praising her as one of his most gifted students; lamenting about how the fact that with brains like hers, she ought to have been in his House. Ashley was willing to bet everything Aiden owned that he was Professor Flitwick would not want her in Ravenclaw any longer.

"I'm leaving," she announced, setting down her fork.

Aiden protested, "Ashley-"

But with the stares of her old professors burning into her back, Ashley could not bring herself to answer him.

Draco was in the entrance hall, just having descended the grand staircase. He seemed surprised to see her.

"What are you doing up?" he asked. "I'd have thought you'd be in the hospital wing now, or at least lying on the dormitory floor in a coma."

Ashley snorted. "Please Draco, I'm not in the mood."

"Vanessa give you a hard time then?" he asked sympathetically, as Ashley made to move past him.

"No Draco, she was absolutely delighted to find me a Death Eater." Ashley's voice dripped with sarcasm. "She showed me her Dark Mark and we spent the rest of the night gossiping about how much fun it is to use the Cruciatus Curse on unsuspecting muggles."

Draco grimaced. "Merlin, Ashley. Did you forget to take your bitch pills this morning?"

"Well how'd it go with Blaise then?" she snapped.

"Well-"

But at that moment, a horrifying shriek echoed from behind them on the Grand Staircase.

"WHAT D'YOU MEAN YOU FORGAVE HIM?" shouted the furious voice of Vanessa Potter.

Draco and Ashley jumped, glancing up at the staircase just in time to see Blaise come around the corner, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Well you see," he was saying, "he apologized and-"

Blaise stopped dead as caught sight of Ashley and Draco at the foot of the stairs, stopping so suddenly that Vanessa crashed into him. She had opened her mouth to express her opinion on Blaise's level of intelligence, but snapped it shut as she realized what Blaise was staring at.

* * *

The tense silence that followed was broken by Blaise's weak, "Oh, hello there."

The first few weeks of school were hell. Which was to be expected, after all, when you shared a dormitory with your ex-best-friend-turned-mortal-enemy, and your only friend left was a pureblood who had grown increasingly annoying as the days progressed. Oh look at me, I'm being shallow. I suppose I should also mention that Neville and Ginny get tortured every other day for speaking out in class, and that Dark Arts and Muggle Studies are now a mandatory subject. Great, now I'm even more depressed.

Aiden Moore—yes, _that_ Aiden—was now the overseer of all punishment. And guess what he thinks is a suitable punishment for kids that walked too slowly or breathed too loudly or had other such inexcusable behavioral problems? That's right, the Cruciatus Curse! Performed on them by their very own classmates! What a swell guy, that Aiden Moore.

When he first announced it, I swear the whole class went white. Even Blaise, which is strange, because he's black. Except for Crabbe and Goyle, of course—who had devoured the Carrows' lectures about the Unforgivable Curses and were now practicing them in the hallways—and Draco, who was so white he couldn't be any whiter.

When the Carrows shoved in a bunch of trembling kids for us to practice on—one of them Euan Abercrombie, an adorable third year that I knew Ginny to be particularly fond of—the atmosphere was so tense, you could almost hear the electricity crackling in the air. Crabbe was the first to perform the curse on Rose Zeller, whose screams filled the classroom, making the Carrows cackle with savage pleasure and the Gryffindors—and the majority of the Slytherins, as well—wince. Most of the class followed Crabbe's example; some cast furtive looks around them before muttering the curse most unwillingly, but all the same, they did it.

"Come on, V," muttered Blaise beside me. "Just grit your teeth and do it."

He took a deep breath, and the Hufflepuff girl in front of him writhed in agony. My eyes snapped away from her and I looked around the room, desperate to find something to distract me. I found Neville staring at me. For whatever reason, I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye and focused my attention back on the boy in front of me. And I grit my teeth.

As I left with Blaise to the Great Hall for dinner, Euan Abercrombie's screams were still echoing in my head.

Later that week, the first signs of rebellion showed up. I'm not just talking about Ginny and Neville being cheeky—this was organized rebellion, something that could actually go somewhere. Blaise and I had been walking down to breakfast when we noticed fourth year Slytherin nearly bowled us over as he ran up the staircase.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" growled Blaise, trying and—for the first time—somewhat succeeding in sounding intimidating.

"Sorry," he mumbled, dodging us. "But you don't want to go down there. If they see you looking at it—"

"Looking at what?" I asked, but he had disappeared onto the first floor landing.

Blaise shrugged. Then, as a mischievous smile spread across his face, he said, "Let's go check it out!"

"But he just said—"

"Come on, V, where are your balls?" he grinned, tugging me after him.

"Evolution didn't give me any," I muttered. But, with a sigh, I followed after him.

The entrance hall was crowded with students gathered around a stretch of wall, on which something had been written in bright red paint. Now I'm not exactly the tallest person in the world, and normally I would blame Harry for stealing all the tall genes, but he isn't exactly tall either, so I've been forced to conclude that our family has simply been descended from a bunch of midgets. And due to the midget gene in my blood and the sheer number of people in front of me, I didn't have a clue what was written on there.

I stretched up on my tiptoes, craning my neck. "What's it say, Blaise?"

Blaise was standing with his arms crossed, apparently completely apathetic despite his eagerness only a few moments before. He shrugged. "No idea. The bastards in front of me are in my way."

I looked up at him, exasperated. "But you're taller than them. You just need to tiptoe a bit and—"

He looked horrified. "Tiptoe? Vanessa, don't you know how completely demoralizing it is for a Slytherin to tiptoe? You'd be the laughingstock of the entire school." He then noticed me standing on my toes and snorted.

Just then, the crowd parted to make way for a smug-looking redhead and a blonde with a vague expression. People began whispering as they passed: some admiringly, others scathingly. And as everyone moved out of the way, I could read the message for the first time:

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY: STLL RECRUITING

Before I could do so much as blink, however, Ginny had spotted me and tackled me with a cry of delight, pulling me into the corner of the hall and attracting many snickers and curious glances. It was the first time I had seen her since the summer, and although I wanted to gush about how much I had missed her and complain about what a disastrous year this had been so far, the first thing that came out of my mouth sounded accusatory.

"You didn't tell me."

"Tell you what?" asked Ginny, her big brown eyes blinking at me; the very picture of innocence. If my years in the Wizarding World have taught me one thing, it's that nobody who grew up with Fred and George could ever be innocent.

I rolled my eyes. "Gin..."

She heaved a great sigh. "Look Nessie, I just didn't think it was such a great idea for you to be in Dumbledore's Army this year. It's dangerous, especially for you. _No, listen_," she said emphatically, recognizing the signs that meant I was about to interrupt. "I'm willing to bet my entire collection of Holyhead Harpies figurines—you know how much those mean to me—that they're only allowing you to attend Hogwarts because it's the easiest way to keep an eye on you—besides capturing you anyway. But they tried that at the wedding, didn't they? And they failed, so..."

I snorted. "Gin, I'm sorry, but I think you're going to have to kiss your Harpies goodbye. You're overestimating my value. I'm at here at Hogwarts because no one gives a shit."

"Vanessa," said Ginny, with maddening patience, "you are Harry Potter's sister—"

"And you're his girlfriend," I retorted.

"_Ex_-girlfriend."

"Oh, really?" I asked with genuine interest. "When did that happen?"

"Right after Dumbledore's—" she shook her head. "Don't distract me. Listen Ness, just hear me out this once, okay? Maybe you're right and they _don't_ give a shit, but chances are that _I'm _right,"—I shook my head and snorted again— "so please, _please_, just keep your head down and..." The chattering around the hall ceased abruptly, and Ginny looked up, found the cause and swore. "Oh, here they come."

Blaise was suddenly at my side. "We need to get into the Great Hall."

"What—"

"_Now, _V," he said, pulling me none too gently toward the great double doors. "If they catch you here—"

"All right, all right," I grumbled. "I'm coming."

But as I glanced back at the crowd that had dispersed so quickly at the arrival of the new Death Eater teachers, I caught a glimpse of Ashley and Draco, trailing behind Aiden Moore, whose cold blue eyes were staring straight at me.

* * *

A/N: I haven't written anything in a long, long, long time so sorry if this isn't my best work. I re-read it a couple of times and edited, but it's still... whatever. Reviews are welcome, & constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

oh yeah, and if you guys are interested, check out my new fic Separate Paths. It's only a one shot for now, but I'm thinking about expanding it. The link's on my profile :)


	28. Lost

A/N: **READ THIS READ THIS READ THIS!**

** ok so I feel like I have a lot of explaining/ clearing up to do. First of all with the Vanessa-Harry relationship: I don't think I did a good job depicting it, and 15hearts sent me a message asking why Harry didn't take Vanessa with him on their hunt for Horcruxes, & I'm just going to copy and paste my response here. **

**well basically he didn't tell her for the same reasons he didn't tell anyone else about the horcruxes besides ron and hermione. dumbledore told him only to tell ron and hermione. harry isn't really all that close with vanessa anymore either. they used to be almost inseparable because the only thing that was keeping them from going insane while they were at the dursleys the first 11 years of their lives was each other. but ever since they went to hogwarts and got sorted into rival houses, then there's been a kind of rift between them and they just continued to drift apart. the last summer they spent at the dursleys together there was hardly any contact between them. **

** ok... yeah, I feel like I have more to say but it's two in the morning and I really just want to get this posted. Oh, & I was re-reading some of my old chapters and sorry that my writing style is so different now. They're in a completely different situation than they were in before though. I had a lot more room to make jokes and be stupid. Okay, anyway enjoy!**

Blaise and Draco sat across from each other on the floor of the dormitory, where various textbooks lay open and forgotten alongside their unfinished Transfiguration homework. Though Blaise had long ago forgiven Draco for his dishonesty the previous year, the only time they had friendly contact was when they were alone in their room, which was where they were forced to do their homework, seeing as how Vanessa had claimed the common room and Ashley the library. Blaise's marks were indeed suffering from his lack of having somebody to copy off of. And also due to the fact that Blaise and Draco spent more time gossiping than actually studying.

"I still don't see why you haven't even _tried_ apologizing to her," Blaise was saying for the fifty-second time.

"It's hard to apologize to someone who runs the other way when they see you coming," said Draco bitterly.

"Well I still say you're not trying hard enough."

"What about you and Ashley, then?" retorted Draco. "I don't see you trying to apologize to her."

"_I'm _not the one that needs to apologize."

The two boys sighed at the same time. There was a silence in which each of them were lost in their own thoughts. Draco broke it at last, picking up his quill and saying,

"We better get started on this. It's due tomorrow, and you know McGonagall has no queries about reporting us to the Carrows."

Blaise snorted. "As if they'd ever punish _you_."

"Yeah, but _you _might be in trouble if your marks don't improve," Draco pointed out.

"Aw, see you _do_ care about me!" Blaise gushed. But then he said, "I don't see why it matters, though, honestly. It's like you said last year, isn't it? It doesn't matter anymore how many OWLs or NEWTs anyone's got. It's all about your service to Him; He's won. Even Potter and his mates are on the run."

Ashley was sitting alone at a worn desk in farthest corner of the library, scratching out random phrases on a piece of parchment and occasionally glancing at her open Herbology textbook to give the impression that she was still working on her homework despite the fact that she had completed it two hours ago. It wasn't enough, however, to distract her from the stares and whispers of the others in the library; they weren't even bothering to try and hide the fact they were all talking about her. It was driving her insane. She wondered if they had a death wish.

However, the library was indeed preferable to being in her dormitory, trying to tune out Parkinson and Bulstrode and waiting for Vanessa to come storming in, or spending the night wandering the corridors, or listening to Aiden and Carrows in the staff room (not that she was allowed to go in there anyway).

Ashley sighed, slammed her textbook shut, and rose from her seat, deciding that she might as well spend this time to get ahead in History of Magic. She sighed again; she didn't know how much further she could go in History of Magic—she was already studying stuff that they weren't supposed to cover until May. History was the best way for Ashley to distract herself, though. As she rose from her seat, the whispers escalated in volume, and Ashley chanted to herself,

"The goblins rebelled in 847, 1248, 1508, 1748, and again in 1895. Emeric the Evil was defeated by Barnabas the Barmy in 1467..."

Ashley was cut off abruptly as she realized there was someone ahead of her, scanning the bookshelves and muttering, "Flesh-Eating Trees... Flesh-Eating Trees..."

It was Vanessa, diligently scouring the shelves for a Herbology textbook that was on the other side of the library. Before she could stop herself, Ashley had said,

"You do know that you're looking in the History of Magic section for a Herbology book, don't you, Vanessa?"

Vanessa's head jerked upward at the sound of Ashley's voice, and her eyes narrowed. She seemed to hover on the edge of speech, decided it wasn't worth her time, and continued her fruitless attempts at finding her book. Ashley sighed; she supposed she ought to find it comforting that Vanessa hadn't changed her pigheaded ways. She went back to her table in the back of the library, picked up the textbook that Vanessa had been searching for, and set it down beside her before leaving the library and deciding to wander the corridors for a couple hours before retiring to bed.

* * *

As the days went by, I felt myself being wound tighter and tighter. I didn't have any clue what was going on outside. I hadn't heard from Harry in weeks and weeks. I didn't know where he was; I didn't know what he was doing... I didn't even know whether he was alive or not.

It. Was driving me. Completely. Insane. I've never gone so long without contact from him.

Add that to the fact that Draco hadn't so much as looked at me the entire year—I mean, not that I pay that much attention to him. I couldn't care less actually. I hardly even notice him.

"Will you please stop staring at him, V?" hissed Blaise, sounding half irritable, half amused. We were in the middle of a History of Magic, and I was vaguely aware of Binns droning on about the medieval giant population in Bohemia. "If you want to talk to him that bad, t_hen just go talk to him._ It's actually quite simple."

"But I _don't _want to go talk to him. It's actually quite simple."

About the only thing that could potentially cheer me up is the fact that the Death Eaters in Hogwarts aren't having it easy either. Dumbledore's Army was keeping up a consistent string of pranks/ attempted-sabotage (that I was very cruelly not invited to be a part of). Although a blanket ban had been placed on everything from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and anybody found to be in possession of their products was at risk of expulsion at best and imprisonment at worst, Ginny seemed to have an endless supply of them.

It was almost like having the Weasley twins back again. Scratch that, if they were here they would be too busy being crying with pride at their little sister stepping into their shoes and wreaking havoc to be of much use to anyone. During one memorable dinner, someone—three guesses who—had slipped an incredibly powerful love potion into Amycus Carrow's pumpkin juice (who knew Death Eaters drank pumpkin juice) and everyone in the Great Hall spent the rest of the evening snorting into their pudding as Amycus Carrow had to be restrained by his sister to keep from molesting Snape as he worked on an antidote.

It was a wonder that Ginny was never caught. For some reason, the Carrows' main suspect was Neville—possibly because he was the one that always spoke up in class—but they had a hard time proving he had anything to do with the stunts. Ginny was very thorough, leaving little to no evidence against them. In fact, the only reason I knew her to be the perpetrator was because of the countless hours I had spent at the Burrow watching her, Fred, and George; I recognized their style. That, and the fact that she took every possible opportunity to brag about it.

"You could hear them shrieking halfway across the castle," Ginny had cackled after running into me on my way to Herbology. "And then Michael Corner had this idea to..."

And then she divulged some top super secret plan to flood the Carrows' chambers while they were sleeping.

"But what if they drown?" I had asked.

"_Who cares?" _

One day, as I was walking along a corridor on my way to Potions with Blaise—just happening to be trailing behind Ashley and Aiden—there was a flash of orange behind a tapestry, and Aiden's robes caught fire. Through Aiden's hysterical screams and Blaise's equally hysterical laughter, I could have sworn I heard Ashley snorting with suppressed laughter as she attempted to douse the flames. (What was _up _with her? I had already resolved myself to the belief that she was an evil witch—no pun intended—but now she goes around helping me with homework and laughing at other people's misery as if... as if nothing's changed. Which is completely ridiculous—everything's changed.)

And it was all fine and dandy that Ginny was having so much fun with Dumbledore's Army—at least some people were enjoying themselves. Until they got caught trying to steal the sword of Gryffindor from Snape's office (I don't know which bonehead suggested that idea, but I sure hope it wasn't Ginny.) And they seemed to lose their touch. Lavender Brown and Parvarti Patil got caught releasing nifflers in the Carrows' office, and Michael Corner got tortured for releasing a first year that was chained up in the dungeon.

And you know what the most infuriating part was? If I had been there, I could've stopped it from happening. It was complete and utter insanity for Neville, Ginny, Luna, and Terry Boot to break into Snape's office without Decoy Detonators at the very least. _They needed me_, and I was going to prove it to them.

Just don't ask me how, I haven't quite figured that out yet.

* * *

A/N: okay, before you start thinking like "omgggggggg, Vanessa's so stuck up, who does she think she is Dumbledore's Army doesn't need a stupid Slytherin like her". Well you're kind of right. They don't need her. But Vanessa hasn't had anything to look forward to in months, and although what Dumbledore's Army is doing could hardly be counted as fun, that's what she sees it as. And she basically deluded herself into thinking that she could do it too, and is going to completely ignore Ginny's warning in the previous chapter, which will either get her into a lot of trouble in the next chapter or...

sorry guys, gotta wait a few days to find out.

Oh yeah, check out my new fic called Separate Paths. It's pretty depressing but, I don't know, maybe you like that stuff.

Please review! Really, don't be afraid to criticize my stuff. I don't exactly like my writing style right now, but I don't know how to improve it. And feel free to ask any questions you have involving the plot or the characters or anything in general really.


	29. Ch29 and REALLY IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE

Coming up with a plan was harder than I thought. So far, the best thing I could think of involved Stunning one of the Carrows and transforming into one of them via Polyjuice Potion. But that plan required Ashley's brains, Draco's potion-making skill, and Harry's experience at breaking into Snape's private stores. And since that was completely out of the question, why even consider it?

Frustrated by my own inability to come up with a satisfactory plan, I pushed it to the back of my mind. Besides, I had much more pressing matters to deal with.

Such as the fact that Blaise had just lit my robes on fire.

"Put it out, put it out!" I was shrieking, stamping my foot in a futile attempt to extinguish the flames. Blaise was riffling frantically through a book, looking for the right charm.

"_Aquamenti_!" he wailed "Aw come on, _AQUAMENTI."_

"You idiot, you're going to turn me into a human roast pig!"

"That doesn't even make any –"

"_Aguamenti_," said a calm, yet somewhat irritable voice from behind us.

We whirled around. I was too shocked by her appearance to even notice that my robe had been put out.

"It's _agua_menti," Ashley said into the dead silence. "Not _aqua_menti you magically-challenged dimwit."

I started, "Don't call Blaise a–"

"_You_ do it all the time," Ashley pointed out.

"Yes, but _I'm _not a backstabbing bitch."

"Perspective, V. I'm telling you, it's all about perspective," she went on breezily, tossing her head back. Then, she gave me a hard look and pointedly said, "_You're welcome_", before stalking out of the common room.

"Blimey," said Blaise, as soon as the portrait hole closed behind her. "Of all the rotten luck–Ow!"

I had punched his shoulder as hard as I could. "_That_ is for setting me on fire," I hissed.

You would think being turned into a human torch would have given me some great revelation about life or at least inspire me to do something related to the Carrows'. Unfortunately, Ginny had already put into effect my idea to set somebody's robes on fire. I briefly considered unleashing Cursed Fire in their chambers, as the irony of using it against the one who had taught it to me would have been greatly appreciated, but dismissed the idea as it was Dark Magic and I wasn't ready to stoop quite that low yet.

In other words, I had absolutely no idea what to do.

` On the bright side, I had finally received word about what Harry was up to. Admittedly, I was probably the last person in the entire world to hear about it, but I suppose it was better late than never.

Even if the news did come out of Parkinson's mouth.

I was retiring to my dormitory early, having completed none of my homework as the best form of rebellion I could come up with against Snape's regime—that, and I really didn't feel up to writing a 20 inch essay on the dangers of human transfiguration. I hated being in my dormitory and usually avoided it as much as possible, but seeing as how Blaise had announced that he was going to bed at 7:30 (more like going to go gossip with Draco), and how the library was off limits if I wanted to avoid bickering with Ashley, and the prospect being in the common room alone with a bunch of unfriendly Slytherins was not particularly inviting, my dormitory was—unfortunately—the only place I had left.

I had been trying to sneak into the room inconspicuously, as to not attract the attention of Parkinson, Greengrass, and Bulstrode, who were huddled on the floor and gossiping, when I heard them mention that Harry had broken into the Ministry.

"He _what?_" I burst out before I could stop myself. So much for being inconspicuous.

They looked momentarily stunned that I had spoken to them. Parkinson regained her composure first, plastering an unpleasant smirk on her pug-like face.

"You mean _you don't know?"_

Greengrass and Bulstrode snickered.

I was very much regretting my sudden insertion into this conversation. Even more so when I was forced to listen to a very tedious, very boastful account of how Parkinson had heard from _Draco_—she looked particularly smug here—who had heard from his parents, who had no doubt heard from the Dark Lord _himself _that Harry had led an attack on the Ministry with an army of house elves. It was all very ridiculous and exaggerated and I, for one, strongly doubt that Harry's sole purpose for organizing this siege on the Ministry was so that he could steal Dolores Umbridge's necklace. I mean, yes he hates her and wants revenge, but with a ten-thousand Galleon price on his head, surely not even my brother would be as foolish as to break into the Ministry for simple revenge?

On second thought...

It turns out that McGonagall was not at all pleased about my idea of rebelling against the Carrows by not doing my homework. You would think someone who supports Dumbledore's Army so heartily—though she pretend not to, it fools no one—would understand or at least sympathize with my attempts to undermine their authority. But no. As usual, she was an unsympathetic bitch when it came time to turn in the twenty inch essay that I had not even considered writing. She wouldn't even listen to my attempts to explain to her that I was rebelling against the Death Eaters' system.

In fact, she was so furious, that I became the first student in history to be referred to the Carrows for punishment by McGonagall. And wait 'til you hear who the second student was.

Ashley was trudging along next to me in near silence as we made our way across the castle to the staff room, clutching the slip of paper that McGonagall had handed the both of us after Ashley had stood up and announced that she had not done her homework either. Complete rubbish of course; since when did Ashley Turner fail to complete a homework assignment?

"Why did you do that?" I asked finally. My curiosity had finally gotten the better of me.

She glanced at me in momentary surprise. Then she shrugged.

"Seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"It was stupid, that's what it was."

She glanced at me again, amusement lighting in her eyes. It was the first time, I realized, in a long time that she showed any emotion toward me besides anger and irritation..No, that wasn't true. She had seemed tired—no, _exhausted—_when I ran into her in the library a few days ago.

"Well if I didn't do it," she said, "who else would accompany you down the highway to Hell? I heard it gets lonely, traveling down that road by yourself."

I laughed. Another first. "Well it has been awfully lonely here without you..."

We reached the staff room right then, and our smiles turned into identical grimaces.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered and knocked on the door cautiously.

It swung open almost immediately, and we were greeted by the unfortunate sight of the hunchbacked, watery-eyed Amycus Carrow.

"What," he said in a wheezing voice. "What do you want, eh?"

"We've been sent to you, Professor," Ashley said stiffly, holding out her note delicately between her index finger and thumb.

He took it, casting us a suspicious glance as he took out his wand and unfolded the note. Whatever was written on it seemed to cause him great joy. He just had turned away from us, exclaiming with delight to his sister, who was no doubt somewhere in the room, when another voice spoke up.

"Who is it, Amycus?"

Ashley shifted uneasily as Aiden Moore poked his head around the corner. The sight of him was equally unwelcome as the sight of Amycus Carrow, though he was, I grudgingly admitted, easier on the eyes.

Amycus had turned into the room, ignoring Aiden and bellowing to his sister, "Look who we've got, Alecto, look who we've got! The Other Potter herself!"

As he was yelling, Aiden's eyes had met Ashley's for a fraction of a second. It looked to me as though they were communicating silently, but before I could be sure of what I was seeing, Aiden had turned back to Amycus, his eyes narrowed. "Who _you've_ got? Excuse me, but I think you're forgetting who the overseer of punishment is. It's _me_, you dunderheads," he added, seeing their confusion.

"Look, Moore," said Alecto, approaching Aiden so that she was offensively close to his face. "She is the _Other Potter_, she is _Harry Potter's sister_, she is—"

"Standing right there listening to your evil plans to kidnap her," muttered Ashley.

"—crucial to the Dark Lord's plans. If I recall the last time you were sent to deal with her, Moore..." Alecto trailed off here, a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched Aiden's complexion darken.

"That was a mistake—"

"One more mistake than we can afford."

"—if the Zabini boy had not interfered—"

"And yet he is here. Right here in this castle. And yet you, the overseer of punishment, have not punished him."

Aiden's composure was slipping, leaving him a blotchy, red-faced mess. What little sexual appeal he had was quickly dissipating.

"He was—I mean—that's not—this is beside the point," Aiden spluttered furiously. "This is my position. How dare you question it? If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with the Dark Lord yourself."

He drew himself up to his full height, trying to regain his dignity. In the silence that followed, his eyes darted over to where Ashley and I stood, staring. His jaw went slack; apparently he had forgotten we were still in the room.

"Hello to you too," said Ashley wryly.

The Carrows and Aiden glanced at each other, and there was a beat of silence in which you could practically hear their brains whirring. And then, before the Carrows could protest, Aiden said quickly, "Detention with Filch. Next Saturday cleaning the trophy room. You're dismissed."

And as I was turning my back on them, I could've sworn I saw Aiden give Ashley a triumphant smile.

Draco and Blaise were trudging down the stairwell toward the dungeons, arguing about...well, the only thing they ever seemed to talk about these days.

"...a _Malfoy_ does not apologize," Draco was saying in response to Blaise's ridiculous suggestion that he should apologize to Vanessa. For what, he didn't even know. In his eyes, he was completely blameless.

"Then _Malfoy_ is not going to get his girlfriend back," said Blaise irritably, put up with the blond's stubbornness. They were heading down a nondescript corridor below the dungeons, heading toward the blank stone wall. "I'm telling you, mate, it's your pride or your girl. One of them's got to go."

They reached the end of the corridor then. Draco, sighing heavily, said, "Basilisk". The wall melted away at these words and revealed the greenish glow of the Slytherin common room.

"Oh, here we go," Blaise muttered, spying Ashley and Vanessa from across the room. They were standing together, obviously upset about something. "Let's go, Draco, I'm really not in the mood to hear another one of their shouting matches."

But as they turned to retreat back into the corridor, sudden movement caught their attention, and Draco and Blaise stared in utter bewilderment as the girls simultaneously burst into tears and began clutching each other as though they had just escaped a room full of Cornish Pixies.

Blaise shook his head. "Girls are _weird_."

"You know what sucks?" I was saying, bent over a trophy that, despite my best efforts, remained stubbornly dull. "_This_."

"Oh, quit your whining," said Ashley, who had a long stretch of perfectly polished trophies behind her. "It could've been so much worse than this. Considering you're—_you know—_you would've been lucky to get the Cruciatus Curse."

I straightened up, groaning as my back cracked painfully and massaging my arm, which felt as though a herd of thestrals had just run over it. "I think I'd take the Cruciatus right now."

"You're such a whiny little baby."

"Well you're an obnoxious harpy," I retorted.

"Dunderhead."

"Nitwit."

"Imbecile."

"Unlovable whore."

Ashley gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as though mortally wounded and assuming an expression of deep hurt. "Vanessa!"

I dissolved into a fit of giggles.

The best thing about having Ashley back? Her idea of humor does not involve setting me on fire, unlike a certain Blaise Zabini I know. Don't get me wrong; I love the guy, but Essence of Zabini is meant to be taken in very small doses, and as of late, I have been forced into taking much more than the recommended dosage. It's refreshing, to say the least, to have someone else to talk to.

There were a few moments of silence in which I reluctantly continued to scrub at the dull metal. Ashley, however, seemed to find the silence unnatural and hastened to break it.

"Did you hear about what happened with Ginny Weasley?" said Ashley in a hushed whisper, as though afraid that the walls might have sprouted ears. Well, as this was Hogwarts, I supposed you couldn't be too cautious.

"No," I replied. I had been avoiding Ginny recently, usually heading the other way whenever I saw her walking down the same corridor, as I couldn't bear listening to the stories of her adventures. I also avoided Draco using the same tactic, which was especially a disadvantage when they were coming at me from opposite ends of the corridor. Though honestly, I usually head in Draco's direction when this happens because unlike Ginny, who eagerly pulls me aside and recounts her tales in exaggerated detail and usually causing me to be late for my next class, he studiously ignores me.

"Well she and Neville and Luna got caught trying to sneak forbidden items onto the grounds," said Ashley.

"What happened to them?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I think they went into the Forest with Hagrid, or something of that sort."

"Wow," I said, straightening up in surprise. "That was lenient."

"Yeah, I guess..." Ashley trailed off, becoming bored of this topic.

* * *

**PLEASE READ THIS PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ READ READ READ READ READ THIS IS MUCHO IMPORTANTO. I don't speak Spanish, but PLEASE READ**

Hi guys,

I'm really really sorry, but I don't think I'm going to be able to finish this story. I know I've said this before, but last time I went back and saw all the reviews you guys gave me and it inspired me to work harder to finish this for you, but I just couldn't do it.

I started this a while ago, and a lot's happened since then. I'm not the same person I was and I can't change myself back to fit this story. Truthfully, Ashley's character is getting on my nerves whenever I try to write her, and I have no idea why the hell Aiden Moore is even in this story. He doesn't seem to have a purpose except to give Ashley a back story.

And remember way back when I thought Blaise's last name was Zambini? And that Terry Boot is a year younger?

Sigh.

Yeah, looking at my mistakes really makes me want to take down all this fic, like I did with all my other stupid fics, but I guess it's up to you guys. If you want me to keep it, say so, and I will.

But if it makes you feel any better, I'm starting on a new fic. Blaise and Draco are in it, but that's the biggest similarity I can think of from this one to that one.

The OC's name is Anna, and she's a Ravenclaw. I debated a while about putting her in Hufflepuff, but the way her mind works makes her more fit for a Ravenclaw. She isn't Harry's twin, or even friends with Harry, so if you like this story for Harry, then sorry... Although I think most people read this story for Draco, not Harry. Oh, but I gotta warn you I don't think the Draco in the other fic is going to be like the one in this one. This one was kind of weird and OOC. I'm trying to get him back on track. Blaise will be the same though, for the most part. Ashley won't be in it (thank god).

I don't even know if Draco and Anna are going to be romantically involved or if the story's going to be based on their friendship. I'm leaning toward having a relationship with Blaise though. I've never done that and I want to give it a try.

I actually don't know much at all about the fic except that they're all going separate ways at the Battle of Hogwarts (not a spoiler). Anna's fighting, Blaise is leaving, Draco is staying for the Death Eaters. I think the story's gonna be based on how they get their friendship back on track after that.

Oh, and to AshlynnElizabeth's question about whether or not V looks like Nina Dobrev.. I don't think so, sorry. Nina's kind of dark-skinned with really, really beautiful (and straight) brown hair, whereas Vanessa is paler and is described more as black and uncontrollable like Harry's.

So yeah, please don't kill me if you guys thought this was a real chapter. ACTUALLY, I do have something that I had half-written before I gave up, so I'll post that above this author's note. It's the least you guys deserve, anyway. (Yeah, in case you guys didn't notice, it wasn't done. And it was cut off awkwardly. I have a feeling I was going somewhere with that conversation, but I can't remember anymore.)

And if you anyone's interested, I have a few minor kinks in my new story and if anyone's willing to just answer some either/or questions please message me, or just review non-anon so I can message you back.

I love you guys.


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